Looking for Alaska by Peter Jenkins

sea. Coast Guard cutter Mustang advised.” Eight minutes later, another call. “3:25 P.M . Same caller advised the hang glider was a kite; no one is in danger.”
    Seward is a major sport and commercial fishing port. Resurrection Bay has one of the world’s best silver salmon runs. Icicle Seafoods and others process huge amounts of halibut, salmon, and black cod. Plenty of fishing-related calls are recorded in “The Police Log.” “12:20 A.M . Male removed from Yukon Bar, told not to go into any more bars tonight and go home. Dispute over a fishing pole.” Does this mean the guy was bringing his favorite brand rod and reel into the bars and picking fights with other patrons over what was the best brand, or did someone try to steal his pole?
    â€œ8:17 P.M . Advised of people shooting fish in the ‘Y’ where Bear Creek and Salmon Creek come together.” Obviously these weren’t the same people at Yukon Bar fighting over the fishing pole, unless they were arguing the merits of shooting a fish with a gun, which is totally illegal. It was physically impossible for them to be shooting fish in the water from the Yukon Bar, the water’s too far away from Main Street. Speaking of fishing, some of the best fish catchers around Seward are the bald eagles. They congregate around town in winter—I’ve seen seven on the top of one telephone pole crosspiece. But sometimes even our national bird is falsely accused in “The Police Log.” “9:25 A.M . Two subjects advised eagles on Nash Road were eating what appeared to be a human; later revealed to be discarded parts of a small black bear.”

    Me, Rita, Brooke, Jody, Luke, Aaron, Julianne, and Jed after one of our salmon fishing trips in Seward. P HOTO BY P ETER J ENKINS
    During salmon season (when the salmon are in and entering the creeks that flow into the bay) people around Seward fish day and night. There are so many silver salmon at times that everywhere you look they are jumping out of the water. I’ve seen hundreds of people snagging them with a treble hook; the locals call it meat fishing. Good snaggers can catch over fifty pounds of ocean-fresh silver salmon in an hour and a half. One guy trying to meat fish made “The Police Log.” “1:25 A.M . Warning issued to male for endangering the welfare of a child following report of male fishing in the surf at the waterfall with an infant in a backpack.”
    I got nailed for sport fishing with the wrong license. One June morning after I’d been in Alaska a month or so, I rushed down to the bait and fishing supply place, the Fish House, right across from the docks. I was going out on a charter, it was six something in the morning; I was still not used to the almost perpetual daylight and wasn’t sleeping well. That night I’d gotten about three hours of sleep. I was rushing to buy my license. Eight or ten people were hovering around the counter doing the same, I was about to miss my boat. The teenager asked me my address; I gave her 1907 Dora Way, Seward, the address of the house we were renting. She wrote down my Alaska phone number, I told her I wanted a yearlong license. I paid what she asked for. Turned out she sold me a resident license, but I was no resident. To be one I would have had to be living in Alaska already for a year.
    The trooper found out eight months later, somehow, and one short winter day I got a call. It was our local State of Alaska Fish and Wildlife Protection officer. He asked me to come down to his office in city hall. When I got there, some trappers were checking in some beaver and wolverine pelts. I paid my fine, and then this appeared in “The Police Log” under “Fish and Wildlife Protection”: “The following has been cited by Seward Fish and Wildlife Protection officers. Peter G. Jenkins, of Seward, cited on charge of making a false statement on a resident sport license June 6. Bail set