Alaska Wild Adventures
George and Jill Davis
P.O. Box 1343
Kodiak, Alaska 99615
1 (407) 492-3551
akwildadventures@gmail.com
http://www.alaskawildadventures.tv
ALASKA MAN
by
George Davis
Co-Author Jill Davis
True story of George Davis’ adventures growing up and living in the “Wilds of Alaska”
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Prelude
I had been watching the weather and thought I had a shot of making it back to camp before dark.
I had already been feeling anxious knowing that I had gotten a later start than intended, and that I
was going to have to probably land my plane in the darkness. I knew without a doubt that I had
to make it back to my set net camp on the Gulf of Alaska, where my brother Greg was waiting
for me. Greg had throat cancer and this could very well be my last bear hunt with him. I fought
to keep the super cub under control as I headed through the mountain pass. The wind was
gusting up to forty knots on the upward side of the pass creating severe updrafts and turbulence.
It was very difficult to keep the aircraft under control. I was visualizing what my good friend
Iron Mike Ivers from Yakutat had intensely expressed to me to practice and get proficient at. He
told me to fly the mountain pass on clear days and mark the dead end canyons on my chart.
There are many canyons and crevices, and one wrong turn means death. Alaskan Bush pilots
call it flying into cumulus granite. Now I was flying on the leeward side of the pass, I glanced at
my instruments and was descending at one thousand to fifteen hundred feet per minute. Even
with the engine at full throttle, and the trim set for the best rate of climb, I was still getting
sucked down rapidly. I was hitting pockets of turbulence that would thrash the plane around like
a kite. Looking out of the airplane window to my right, the mountainside loomed three hundred
feet from my wingtip. This was a bad situation; there was barely any visibility from the heavy
snow showers, about one quarter of a mile at best. Sweat was pouring off of my brow from the
tension of keeping my plane from crashing. My brother was waiting for me at camp and death
waited for me with open arms on the side of a mountain.
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Chapter 1 North to Alaska
I had dreamed of going to Alaska since the tender age of ten. My brother Greg, whom was
twelve years older, shared this vision of living off the land in the wilds of Alaska. I poured over
books and photographs and wanted to learn how to hunt, fish and trap just like the Alaska wild
mountain men I had been reading about. It was all I could think about.
My father, George Sr., owned a Tool and Dye business in Michigan, and was a private pilot.
When I was 12, I started flying with my dad. We would rent planes, and I started learning how
to fly. By the time I was fourteen, I was flying a few different types of aircraft three days week.
Cessna 150’s, 172’s and a high performance Cessna RG 182. I was putting in as much stick time
as I could. At fifteen, I started taking lessons from an instructor. During this time in my life my
older brother Greg had been telling me about his plans to head North to Alaska. Greg’s work in
construction made it easy for him to relocate and find work most anywhere. He finally made the
decision to head North to Alaska, but unfortunately his first wife did not share his dream. Greg
had to make the tough decision to make the trek to the last frontier alone. Later he met Jane,
who shared his passion for the fiftieth state, and they began the adventure to Alaska together.
Greg and Jane returned to Michigan two years later expecting a baby. They talked with our
parents about the opportunities in Haines, Alaska. Our Dad George Sr. was excited about the
idea. I desperately wanted to attend the Air Force Academy, to become a fighter pilot. My dad
was all for it, however my mother was firmly against it. I began talking with my brother more
about life in Alaska. I was enthralled when I listened to his stories about living in the wilderness
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fishing, hunting, trapping and being a mountain man. I already had a thirst for adventure and a
burning desire to go to Alaska. The loss of my aspiration of joining the Air Force, combined
with the timely arrival of my brother with tales of his life up North could make my dream into a
reality. I was dead set on going to Alaska with my brother period!
Greg talked our parents into coming to Alaska with us to check out the prospects. The adventure
was to begin. Greg and I jumped in his white Chevy van. My Mom, Dad, Jane, and newborn
baby Dawn Rene traveled in our parents four door Oldsmobile and we all headed Westbound for
Seattle. We drove to Chicago, then West on I90 to Seattle.
When we arrived in Seattle four days later, we stayed at the famous Edgewater Inn on the
waterfront for three days while waiting excitedly for the Alaska State ferry, the Malaspina. The
spectacular voyage up the inside passage from the Port of Seattle to Haines, Alaska takes 3 days.
The first Port of call was Ketchikan, Alaska. The next stops were Wrangell, Petersburg, Juneau,
and then finally Haines. After Haines the ferry continues North on to Skagway, then she turns
around, and makes the same stops on the way back to Seattle.
I was thrilled taking this trip. The scenery was spectacular, and I fell in love with Alaska
seafood. The ferry had a full service restaurant on board and I was so impressed with the King
Crab Louie, and Halibut Fish & Chips, that I made the decision right then and there crabbing and
being a commercial fisherman would be something I would pursue, along with the hunting, sport
fishing and trapping lifestyle. Haines is a beautiful quaint little town that had a population of
approximately five hundred people at time which included the little native village of Klukwan,
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which is 22 miles up the road in the Chilkat Valley on the bank of the Chilkat River. Haines
looked like something out of National Geographic, with scenery comparable to the Swiss Alps. It
has sweeping views of steep rugged mountains, beautiful valleys and swift rivers that flowed in
to the sea. It was February, and Haines was buried with fifteen feet of snow. February 7th, 1971
saw the arrival of the Davis family in Haines, Alaska. The town had been battling a wicked
winter and they were struggling to dig themselves out of a bad snowstorm. After checking into
the Thunderbird Motel, Greg did his best to show everyone around his new home town that
unfortunately was buried in snow. Even some of the vehicles were completely buried, but that
did not bother me. On the other hand, our Mother, Alberta, but everyone called her Birdie, was
used to her creature comforts of fancy living in Michigan. She decided then and there that the
small town Northern Exposure Alaska life was not meant for her. The first words that came out
of her mouth were "When is the next ferry out of this town?" At the ripe age of fifteen, I decided
right then and there I was going stay in Haines with my brother Greg, his wife Jane, and baby
Dawn to live out my dream.
My father asked me if I was sure that I wanted to stay. He wanted to make sure that this was the
right decision I was making for myself. He told me he did not want to get a call in a few weeks
from me crying or wining to come home, and that if I did want to come back to Michigan I was
going have to find my own way. If I wanted to make adult decisions for myself, I was going to
have to take responsibility. I was dead set to live this Mountain man lifestyle and I said “yes, for
sure I was staying.” Thirty six hours later after the ferry had gone to Skagway, turned around,
and made its way South back to Haines. Mom and Dad were back on the ferry headed to Seattle
where they would then make the trek East back to Michigan. I knew I was finally home!
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Even though I had dreamed of living in Alaska, understandably it was a bit of culture shock.
Life certainly was anything but easy. Jane had just recently given birth to a daughter in
December, Dawn Rene, just two months before we arrived in Haines. It was a tough time of
year to be looking for a place to live, but we ended up finding a small 28 foot Silver airstream
trailer in Port Chilkoot. It had one small bedroom, and one small bathroom. I slept on the sofa
under a cracked window covered in visqueen plastic that let the snow blow in on me when the
wind was really howling. Port Chilkoot was a different part of Haines. It was actually a
Fort/Base one mile south of town that was built back in WW1. It had barracks, military housing,
and even a recreation hall that had a bowling alley and gym. The snow storms kept coming and
we kept getting hammered. I actually had to go to people’s houses and dig out their front doors
because the snow was so deep people were literally trapped in their homes with snow up to the
windows.
Greg started a Karate class. With his background training in the Army Special Forces Green
Beret division, Greg excelled at Karate after he was out of the military, and became a black belt.
I had been studying Karate for three years in Michigan prior to coming to Haines, and had my
Brown Belt. I helped him instruct the class. We taught our class in the basement of the local
bowling alley and bar. Being only fifteen, I had to head off to school each day, which ended up
being a very tough situation for me. Since I was from Michigan, the local kids considered me an
outsider at first. I was not readily accepted and my head definitely was not on school. Instead of
keeping my thoughts on books and class, I caught myself daydreaming about being out in the
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wilderness starting my life of hunting, trapping and fishing. I did meet and became close friends
with a girl my age named Lisa. She was the daughter of my brothers close friend Ernie.
Being the new kid is tough enough, but being in an isolated place like Haines was even tougher.
Just to explain how isolated Haines is; The Canadian Border is a forty two mile drive. It is 250
miles to the town of Whitehorse, Yukon. It is 330 miles to Beaver Creek, and then you enter
back in to Alaska from the Yukon. It is 585 miles to the town of Glenallen, 640 miles to
Fairbanks, or 860 miles to Anchorage from Haines. The only other option for traveling is to take
a ferry ride or fly a plane fifteen miles North up to Skagway or ninety miles south to Juneau.
Right off the bat, the school tough guy picked a fight with me by accusing me of taking his
school book while we were in the library. This did not sit well with me, so I stood up to him. I
am not the kind of person that will take being bullied or intimidated. We got into a confrontation,
and I ended up fighting him. He threw the first punch and I blocked it, counter punched him
once and knocked him flat on his ass. In one punch the fight was over. This unquestionably
landed me in the principal’s office. I was in the principal’s office often, and was sent home a
few times. I was finally expelled for two weeks after getting into an altercation with the
principal and picked him the up by the front of his jacket and hung him up by the back of his
jacket on the horns of his Mountain Goat Mount that was on the wall of his office. They called
my brother at Snobble's Lumber Mill, and he had to take off of work to come and get me.
Needless to say, he was infuriated at me. Another big difference from what I was used to was
the dating scene. In Michigan, dating was formal, and I took girls out on dates. Boys were
expected to show etiquette. In Alaska girls we very advanced, and going to parties with older
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boys. I had never had a problem finding dates, but in Haines instead of me making an effort to
ask a girl out, I had numerous girls chasing me! My problems with the principal and other
factors I ended up barely passing that year of school. I turned sixteen that March.
My first spring in Alaska before fishing started, Greg and I went Black Bear Hunting. I had
some money saved, and had bought a used 375 H&H Magnum model 70 Winchester for three
hundred dollars. I shot my first Black Bear almost two months after my sixteenth birthday on
May tenth. Greg let me shoot the first Black Bear of the season. I was so thrilled to be living out
my dream! I shot the bear on a bench covered in Dandelions, which was at about five hundred
feet elevation. We hiked up to the bench where the bear was laying. I had got him down with
one shot. We skinned the bear and packed out the meat and hide down the mountain. I shot the
bear on a bench covered in Dandelions that was at about five hundred feet elevation.
We butchered and froze the bear meat. With the bear meat we made sausage and jerky. This
became an annual tradition for us. Greg had already spent two seasons in Alaska and had been
fishing with a local Native family. Since I was here now, we would be fishing together. We got
our commercial set net permits to fish for salmon. Back then anyone could buy a commercial set
gillnet license. Later the law changed to what is called limited entry. That is where the state of
Alaska limited the number of permits that could be issued for the different Salmon fisheries. We
outfitted a friend’s unheated shop with a barrel stove and started building a wooden 16 foot skiff.
We named it The Last Chance. We headed out to the end of the Chilkat Peninsula to Seduction
Point, with some building supplies and our skiff with an Evinrude fifty horsepower OMC Motor.
We had enough lumber to build a 12x16 stick frame cabin, and we brought out a 12X14 wall tent
to set up to stay in till the cabin was framed. We brought out a little wood stove, a Coleman
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camp cooking stove, and lanterns. It did not take us long to get the cabin built. Greg was a fast
builder and I was an exceptionally hard worker. We got the cabin frame pounded out in three
days, and were able to install the wood stove, make the bunks, and tables within the next few
days. All together it took us about a week to get the cabin done. We decided to keep the tent up
for friends and guests. We made a running line with a mooring buoy, to anchor up the skiff out in
front of our cabin. Our camp was getting better by the day, and shaping up to be a comfortable
abode.
When commercial fishing opened we set four, fifty fathom nets that are three hundred feet long
by thirty feet deep. How we make a set is by tying one end of the net to a big rock right off the
beach, then stretch it out to points where the fish are swimming by in schools. The other end of
the net has an anchor on the lead line, and a big orange floating buoy on the cork line. The “set”
is perpendicular to the shore. The top of the net floats with corks, called the cork line, and the
bottom of the net is a heavy, with a weighted line called the lead line. Fish are ensnared usually
by their head or by their gills in the “mesh” netting, hence the phrase “gill netting”.
The nets are set strategically along the shoreline in the best possible place to catch schools of
salmon. The first salmon to run are King Salmon "Chinook", then the Reds or "Sockeyes". We
look for the best points where the fish are going to be traveling through. Sometimes people
actually dispute over the areas that produce big sets. The areas that have good salmon runs are
highly sought after. To keep catching fish we had to work the nets keeping them clean of
seaweed and kelp. We would also get the caught fish out of the net, and in to our boat as soon as
possible. If fish see other fish hanging in the net, they will dodge the net and go around it. Ice
was not yet used at that time, and the fish needed to be removed from the skiff quickly. A few
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tender boats sat out in the peninsula. Tender boats are boats that the cannery hires to send out to
the fishing grounds so that fisherman can sell their fish. When fishermen “pitch of” their fish the
tender weighs them, and then hands you a ticket showing how many pounds that you sold them.
Furthermore the fish ticket has the price per pound that they bought your fish for. The price can
change, so you need to keep strict track of your fish tickets so that you get correct amount of
money from the cannery for your fish. The cannery we sold our fish to kept a tender out on the
fishing grounds near Seduction Point. We would call the tender on the VHF radio when our fish
totes were full. This usually that meant we had about one hundred fish. Sockeye weighs about
an average of seven pounds a fish. On a good day we would catch about two hundred fish, so we
would pitch off on an average two times a day. Tenders carried supplies for fisherman on their
boats. They had gas and groceries that we would buy from them so that we could stay out
fishing, and not have to leave the fishing grounds to go to town. At that time the openers ranged
from three to four days a week. The Department of Fish and Game usually opened the fishery
for 72 hours straight. After the opener was over, during the “closure” we had plenty of work to
do. There was cleaning the boat, totes, and repairing nets that had been damaged by fish, rock
reefs, seals and sea lions. There was also maintenance on our outboard, to keep it in good
running condition. During the closures we do what we Alaskan's call subsistence fishing. It is
the same as set netting, but you cannot sell your fish. They are strictly to be used for personal
consumption. When we subsistence fished, we “put up” fish. This means filleting and filling
pint size mason canning jars full of fresh fish, and then pressure cooking them. It was our goal
to put up 30 cases of pint jars a year. We call this “fresh pack” salmon. Fresh pack means pure
fish, with no smoke. We built a smoker and would do smoked salmon as well during the
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closures. We did our smoked fish in a variety of ways. We made dried fish, and sqaw candy.
Squaw candy is strips of salmon smoked and dried until fully cooked, and hard like jerky. Then
some batches of fish we would only half smoke it until barely cooked. Then, we would jar this
fish for the pantry and gifts in pint and half pint jars. The jarred salmon will stay shelf stable this
way for years, but only if it does not get frozen. If the jar of fish gets frozen it turns mushy. We
worked seven days a week during the Salmon season. Three days a week fishing, then the rest of
the week we worked on maintenance, and putting away fish for the winter. We hit our mark of
thirty cases of pint jars filled with Salmon. We put up berry preserves, and had a garden. We
canned up vegetables out of the garden as well. All of this kept me pretty busy, but I did make
time to get my sport fishing rod out. I would catch Dolly Varden Trout near our set net site. I
also learned how to troll for King Salmon. That is how I caught my first King Salmon that
spring, weighing in at 48 lbs. I became avid at bottom fishing for Halibut, Cod, and Rockfish.
We would put Crab and Shrimp pots out, and the catch was plentiful! I was always sport fishing
growing up in Michigan and my thirst for sport fishing only increased when I was in this land of
wild and abundance.
The commercial fishing lifestyle is like farming and harvesting. You only have a certain amount
of time that is available for catching and harvesting salmon and berries, so we work as many
hours as necessary during these seasons. That is what it takes to prepare for long cold winters in
Alaska. While we were fishing, Jane was taking care of the home. She learned the Alaskan way
of picking berries and putting up preserves that came in to season such as Salmonberries,
Strawberries, Blueberries, Raspberries, Moss berries, wild Currants, and high bush Cranberries.
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We did the catching and filleting of the salmon and Jane would do the jarring and cooking. We
all worked together as a family team.
Our Salmon season ended near Halloween, fishing for Silver/Coho’s and Chum/Dogs. Now it
was time to get ready for trapping. I was completely ecstatic to be living the lifestyle I had been
dreaming about. That fall Moose hunting opened in September. Greg and I both got a Moose.
Moose are very large game animals. When they are fully grown they can weigh on average of
fifteen hundred pounds. When they are dressed out and all butchered up we get an average of
five to seven hundred pounds of meat from one Moose. With all the fish and Moose we had put
up, we had enough food that we did not have to buy any store bought meat. Trapping season
started November 10th. We had a fifty mile trap line in two different sections of the Chilkat
Valley. Part of our trap line we used snow machines, and part of our trap line we hiked off of the
road system on snow shoes. Greg had already put in two seasons of trapping and had learned a
lot from an old timer Named Old Man Hepler, who had a grandson named Sonny. Sonny was
about five years older than me, and in the Army.
Greg was already partners with a guy named Ronnie Fisk who was a professional government
trapper from Montana. I worked as a grunt for the operation just to learn the trade. We had
about two hundred traps to set. We trapped for Wolf, Wolverine, Fox, Coyote, Lynx, Marten,
Mink, Land Otter and Muskrat. Both trappers that my Brother had worked with showed him
several secrets to trapping that were not well known, and produced major results. They used me
a lot to hike in with snowshoes to higher elevations. I learned the ins and outs of how to be a
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professional trapper. I was in hog heaven and knee deep in furs! Things were going good living
life in the wilds of Alaska, and I had just completed my Alaskan Initiation
Chapter 2 Springtime in Alaska
Spending that first season in Alaska was a dream come true for me. Everything felt perfect. It
was not an easy life, but I could not imagine living any other way. Greg told me that he was
going to be working for a famous Big Game Guide, Duncan Gilcrest. Greg would be working as
an assistant guide. An assistant guide helps Master Guides in the field with the hunt. This
includes setting up camps, cooking, helping spot and track animals, help pack out animals, skin,
flush and tear down camps. He was going to be working for him in May assistant guiding for
Black and Brown Bear hunting. I asked Greg if Duncan needed any help and that I was willing
to do anything just to get my foot in the door. Duncan was a pilot and had a super cub. I wanted
to stay flying and pursue getting my pilots license. Greg asked Duncan, and told me that he
could use my help. I was thrilled, especially since I could possibly get a chance to get some stick
time in Duncan’s cub. Commercial fishing starts in June, so in between hunts, Greg and I would
start getting our fishing gear ready. The first thing we had to prepare to get ready for fishing was
get our nets out of storage. We had put our nets away in the fall, so in the spring we would get
the nets out, fix and re-build them like new for the upcoming season. Next we would get our
boat in the water, and go out to our cabin to get it opened up and ready for the summer.
Sometimes animals like squirrels would get in our cabin and we would have a mess on our
hands. Everything was going smooth, we worked for Duncan that spring, and we fished all
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summer and did very well. I even got in a little bit of flying in Duncan’s Super Cub, which is
what us pilots call “stick time”.
During the summer while we were out fishing Thomas Williams’s son Sonny came out. Thomas
is one of my brother’s native friends who had taught him a lot about fishing. His son, Sonny was
a little older than me, but we hit it off when we met. Sonny was on leave from the Army, and
had to go back. He was going to be done with his duty soon and coming back to Haines. Just
after meeting and getting to know Sonny, I could tell we were going to be doing a lot of
adventures together. Greg and I kept fishing, and Sonny went back to his station in Fort Lewis,
Washington. Fall approached fast. While we were fishing for Silvers, I got an urgent message
from home. My parents called with bad news.
Thank you for reading and hope you enjoyed this little teaser! We encourage you to share this
with your friends, but you do not have the permission to sell this information. This book is
property of George and Jill Davis, and cannot be sold, altered, or re-produced. This is a sample
from the Novel, Alaska Man. It has not been edited or published. Please contact us if you have
any questions!
George Davis email; akwildadventures@gmail.com
Website; http://www.alaskawildadventures.tv
Facebook; http://www.facebook.com/Alaskawildadventures
You Tube; http://www.youtube.com/user/AlaskaWildAdventures
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