October, November, + December 2025 Wrap Up
Hello Seafood Family!
Happy Thanksgiving, Happy December, Merry Christmas, and Happy Everything. As parents of a young child, we see this month with such sparkly eyes; and after a seven month fishing season, followed by a one month pre-order distribution, we are cherishing the opportunity to slow down a little.
We so thankful for you all: your support, your kindness, and graciousness for our mildly inefficient little fish business.
It's been months since we've sent you all a thoughtful family update, so we are incredibly overdue! My apologies that this is a long one, and a tad emotionally heavy at the end.
Rewinding all the way back to October: SABLEFISH! Whew, what a fun fishery, and an incredible way to cap off our season. Good fishing, killer crew, and the boat ran like a top. We worked out most of the "kinks" in 2023's sablefish fishery (like, if you'll recall, losing all our gear...) so this season: we were better prepared, and it paid off.
The one thing we didn't quite do right, was we took one less crew along this season. Thinking: "Monti's a little older now, so Jess will be able to help out on deck more" (nope!), and "now that we understand the deck flow, we'll be able to turn gear and clean fish a little more efficiently" (also, nope!). As a result, we were up until nearly 4 a.m. every morning meticulously cleaning the day's catch, and setting alarms for 7 a.m. to start hauling pots again.
Along with Caleb, Monti, and I (Jess), we brought two crew: Jake, our long time deckhand and dear friend who fishes with us all summer; plus Jake's pal, Cole. Cole is a seasoned deckhand, fisherman, and real Alaskan dude; he was a hoot to have on board, and those two guys worked their absolute tails off without an ounce of moaning or groaning. Crew morale can really make or break the entire trip -- and these guys' disposition made the whole journey a dream.
We did our best to carve out time for the boys to go deer hunting whenever possible, while Monti and I got to enjoy hitting up the hot springs and mushroom foraging. Fall is Alaska is such a joy (truly, my favorite month of the whole year!), and I am so thankful for our safe + fun October on the water as a family.
Similar to October, November flew by in a glorious blur! The same day our fish arrived in Boise, we dug in and began hand packing pre-orders. Before we could even catch a breath, we were able to get (most) all of you your orders! I can't promise we'll always get pre-orders out the second/third weekend in November, but I sure am thankful it worked out this season.
As our pre-order program grows, we're going to need to tease out some new ways to get fish to you more efficiently (or, we'll simply need to cap the number of pre-orders). I'm not sure which is better, yet. Growth is great, but not at the cost of sacrificing the personal connection with you. At the end of the day though, we are thankful to have such a good "problem". We also plan on reaching out with a survey after the first of the year, to see how we can better serve you in 2025 ❤️
If you've made it this far, now it's December! I hope it's not odd to share: this week has been a rollercoaster of emotions for team Fairweather, and the Southeast Alaska fishing community as a whole.
Sunday was the most perfect December day together as a family: we watched NFL together, while Monti played with toys on our spacious living room floor. We took a nap, drank a second latte, shopped for a Christmas tree. Those kind of days, with their innate magic, their safety and simplicity... I tuck them away in my brain, like a squirrel stashing acorns, so I may revisit them during weary days on the water. No wind, no waves, no seasickness, no thrashed home at sea. Sometimes it baffles me that we get the extraordinary privilege to live with one boot in both worlds.
And on the same day, news trickled across the community that a cherished Sitka fishing boat had capsized. Early that morning, fishing vessel Wind Walker cut lines from Juneau, steaming towards the ocean for their final fishing trip of 2024. A little after midnight, they let off a single call to the Coast Guard. "Mayday, mayday, mayday. This is fishing vessel Wind Walker. We've turned on our side, we're taking on water. Two people are already in the water."
And then nothing else.
A passing by Alaska State Ferry, M/V Hubbard, was the first on the scene. Conditions were awful: a ripping, white out snow storm, low to no visibility. 50+ knot winds. Hubbard gridded the area even after the Coast Guard arrived on scene, it's crew and passengers looking out the windows for something, anything. The Coast Guard combed a 100 mile grid for over 24 hours before calling off the search. All that was found was seven survival suits (red, neoprene, waterproof suits to be donned in times of emergency). They were empty, which tells us nothing and also everything.
As humans, we think in our brains: "How the hell could this happen?"
And as fishermen, we feel in our bones: "I get exactly how that could happen."
I won't dishonor the brave men aboard the F/V Windwalker by pretending to know what transpired. Maybe folks who have worked aboard the boat before could make an educated guesses. But ultimately, like most losses in the wildness that is Alaska's land and sea, we will never know the details.
Ice build up could have been a factor. As freezing ocean spray turns to ice, and accumulates on the topside surfaces of the boat, it can rapidly add thousands of pounds of mass, causing the boat to be "top-heavy".
Simultaneously, it's possible the Windwalker encountered what we call a "slack tank". Many fishing boats fill their fish hold with refrigerated sea water, to keep fish cold or alive (known as a "tanked fish hold"). Tanked holds need to be kept full at all times: otherwise, the open head space allows water (thousands of pounds of water) to slosh back and forth, displacing weight. Sometimes, pumps can fail, allowing the tank water level to drop too low.
Even good engines fail. Then power fails, then steering fails.
No single one of these things would likely capsize a sturdy, well maintained boat like F/V Wind Walker in the waters between Juneau and the ocean. But two, three, four factors -- that all coincide with the wrong current, wrong tide, and the wrong wind gust at the wrong time? That's a horribly painfully reality we all have to live with. Them, us, every fisherman: are all one unfortunate series of events from things going Very Very Wrong.
The names of the five men lost at sea have been released, and is it unkind to say we're "lucky" no dear friends made the list? I'm hesitant to share this story, because it's their grief to hold, not ours. Respectfully, we don't need condolences. But five families have lost a dad, grandpa, son, and uncle this week... And though I do have the words to narrate what happened, I don't have the words to express the depth of loss to those families, and the fishing community as a whole.
We understand The Risks of a life at sea, but rarely does the cost seem so steep. There's a reason we can't afford life insurance policies, the data doesn't lie: statistically, this is one of the most dangerous jobs on earth.
And yet, there's no such thing as a risk free life. Only degrees of risk we can (or perhaps can't?) make peace with.
Somehow, The Risk, and the way it weaves itself into the fabric of our young family's daily life... I'm thankful for it. With The Risk ever present, we don't take much for granted. Our health, the stationary roof over our heads, our daily relative safety. The gift of a child, a marriage, a business. The luxury of waking up in a safe home, in a warm bed, with a fridge full of fresh fruits and vegetables.
Occasionally, especially after losses like F/V Wind Walker, The Risk Of It All can seem so heavy. But more often than not, The Risk isn't too heavy, it's more like a sturdy anchor. It keeps our boots planted firmly on the ground.
This is the life we've chosen, just like every fisherman before and after us. And with the choosing, comes peace.
Happiest December to you all. I have every good intention of sending you all another note before Christmas, but if that doesn't happen, we wish you all a wonderful Holiday Season, and all the peace this beautiful, painful, certainly uncertain life has to offer.
All our love,
Caleb, Jess, & Monti
