Axes, Machetes and Weed Whackers, Oh My!

Every summer, a particular kind of algae (I don't know the name of it) blooms in the Willamette. I know that it's an invasive species, and that there's a heck of a lot of it. It forms these long hairlike tendrils, probably more than 3 feet long. It blooms, then floats downstream. As it floats downstream, a lot of it gets caught on the low water line--the cable that runs across the river underwater.

Because of that, the first trip across the river in the morning is a solid arobic workout. I've got it down to a science now, but the first few days after it started to get bad, it was a mess, and took almost a half hour to cross a river that should take 3 minutes! The good technique is to put the boat in motion, and walk out right away with the machete. As soon as the algae starts coming up where I can reach it, I start whacking at it. It builds up faster than I can whack, and pretty soon there's at least a foot thick ball of algae wrapped around the cable. It's wrapped so tight that it actually stops the boat. It's clogged up a channel where the cable runs through a fairlead so tightly, that even with both engines on full power, I'm stuck. I sit there, stuck, for a few minutes more, whacking like crazy at the giant ball of algae. Then I head into the cabin, back the boat up a bit, then go forward, hoping the momentum breaks the algae off the line. Some mornings, I have to go back and forth several times. A good day is when I can head slowly across, never having to back up. I've had one day like that. My best time is 8 minutes. 8 minutes to cross the river that should take 3 minutes.

When the algae first got bad, the boss didn't like the idea of us using the machetes. Maybe it was cause we're girls? I dunno. I kept telling him we just needed a sharpener, so we could whack through the algae with less force and a sharp blade. It was getting so bad that occasionally, I'd have to grab the fire ax. Seriously. I'd be standing out there on the edge of the boat, using a super heavy ax to whack at algae. I tell ya, my life is crazy.

Before bringing us a sharpener, the boss decided to try a weed whacker. It's a nice idea in theory. You could just stand there, not leaning over, in a much safer position and location, and just let the whacker cut away at the algae. Except the weed whacker took three times as long, and covered everything, including the user, with a thick layer of green algae fur. It just didn't do the job. Finally we got a sharpener and the machete usually works just fine. The other morning though, there was a small tree branch wrapped around the cable, as well as all the algae that had attached to the branch. I will admit, I used the ax for that one.

Once you've gotten across the river, you're not done, at least not for the whole day. Usually once or twice throughout the day, you've got to walk over to where that cable comes out of the water and attaches to the ramps. Right there is where all the rest of the algae that is caught up throughout the day gets shoved to. You've got to go whack it off, then drag all of the algae that's been cut back into the water. Cause drying and dried algae is a really disgusting smell. It smells like something rotting on the beach, and it's full of bugs galore.

So that's my story. Most mornings, even before 7 am, I've been swinging a machete for 10 or 15 minutes. Then later in the day, it's back to the machete and a pitchfork, to move the cut up algae around. But usually I wait until after I've had my coffee for that.

Name That Bird

The BV reopened this morning, after being closed for dredging for the last few weeks. It's nice to be back, to have my space back, and to know what a day is going to bring, instead of not knowing what I'll be doing from one moment to the next.

I noticed a new bird today. A BIG bird, larger than a duck, the size of a goose almost. There are two of them, obviously a male and a female. I looked through a bird book and my bird book app, and I have no clue what these two are! Any ideas?

They have webbed feet, are awkward fliers, and have a hoarse honk for a call. They hung out on shore, not very scared of people, all day, sleeping out in the open. I really want to know what they are!

In other news, last thursday, I helped get the WL Ferry into the water. If you remember, the ferry was pulled out of the water for it's every-5-year check by the Coast Guard, where we also did a huge amount of repairs. It was pretty incredible watching such a huge ferry be manhandled by two heavy duty bulldozers. And the noises it made! The ferry is sitting on steel beams, which were sitting on steel plates, which sat on the concrete or dirt. The ground 30 feet away where I stood shook when it moved.

The bulldozers, as you can see in that video, picked up the steel beams, and pushed them forward, shoving the ferry along with it. At one point when they stopped, I was stunned to see how much weight and pressure was on the 'dozer tires:

I took several steps backwards when I saw that front tire.

We worked an extremely long day on Thursday. Once the ferry was actually in the water, we still had to hook up the baloney, steering cables and low water line. Plus we had to make sure everything worked, get the tools back on board, and everything in it's place as much as possible.

UPDATE! Almost as soon as I posted, a friend suggested that the birds are Muscovy Ducks. Which, after looking at several pictures of the various colors of Muscovies, I think she's right! So cool! Thanks Karen!

Heat Stroke Sucks

Right now, both boats are closed. I closed the BV about 2 weeks ago for low water. Since then, they've had to finish dredging at the WL, then haul everything down to the BV and dredge there, which isn't yet finished. I took all of last week off, and had a wonderful time visiting my sister, brother in law, and super wonderful niece and nephew.

This week, I've been helping out in the final push to get the WL in the water. If you remember from a previous post, the WL was hauled out of the water for an every 5 year inspection by the coast guard. While it's out of the river, both motors were rebuilt, the aprons got some serious repair work, and the whole boat was cleaned and painted. This week, on Thursday, the boat is going to be pushed back into the river, with the goal of reopening by Friday. So there's a big push to get everything finished. I spent most of the day today and yesterday painting. The boat as a whole has been painted, but there's a lot of touch up to do. In addition to that, I'm helping out wherever else I can.

This afternoon, we were painting on this very thick, asphalt-like non-slip material that makes up the entire deck. It's the same stuff that's on the BV, and I love it. I didn't slip or lose my footing once all winter, no matter the ice or rain. Throughout the day today, I hadn't realized that I was getting a sunburn. I had reapplied sunscreen around lunch, but managed to miss my shoulders, most of my face, back of legs, and back of hands. The non-slip paint dried very quickly, so we were in a rush and working fast and hard. We were painting metal which was reflecting the hot sunshine right back up at us. It was a bad combination.

Suddenly I realized I was too hot, too sweaty, too exhausted. I told my coworkers, and went and sat in the shade. I was really dizzy. I drank the last of my pop, which by that point was warm. My water bottle, also next to me, was empty. My coworkers kept coming by to check on me, since my face was very red. I stopped sweating, even though I was super hot. My pulse was racing. Someone refilled my water bottle, and I poured some on my head and drank the rest. I felt like I was going to pass out or vomit, or both. My fingers were tingly and my hands were shaking, and I realized I was breathing so rapidly I was hyperventilating. It was really scary. My coworkers realized what was going on before I did, and were very protective and helpful. After about 15 or 20 scary minutes, I felt well enough to stand up without too much dizziness, and at the demand of a coworker (who has had heat stroke before), took my shoes and socks off and waded up to my knees in the river, and splashed water on my arms and neck. That made a huge difference.

I left the WL earlier than my coworkers, who decided to stay a bit late to finish painting the non-slip texture so it would be dry by morning. It was a very slow drive back to the shops, and then home. First off, I took a long shower, to really cool me down. Even when the water was quite warm, it was weird, I got full body shivers. The heat stroke happened around 4, and I don't think I really felt like myself until close to 9pm.

I'm really fortunate that it wasn't more severe heat stroke. I'm very lucky to have coworkers who were looking out for me. This could have been so much worse. Heat stroke is serious business. I learned a big lesson today.

And I'm very grateful that I'll be in the shops tomorrow, not out in the sun.

The Very Hungry Osprey

Wednesday was a wonderfully warm day. I wore a tshirt and capris and was still warm. I didn't turn the AC on in the cabin since there was a great breeze. Everyone was happy and friendly since it was warm and sunny. (Of course now, two days later, it's only 60 degrees and pouring rain. Sigh.)

Late in the afternoon, I looked over at a snag that's very close to the ramp on the east side. There was an osprey sitting on a very low spot of the branch, almost in the water. A closer glance, then looking at it through the binoculars, and I realized he had caught a huge fish. (I shared the binoculars with a bicyclist who came aboard. That was a mistake. He'd been riding for 20 miles already. He put the binoculars up to his eyes, looked, then handed them back to me. When I put them up to my eyes, the rubber around the lenses were wet with his sweat, which then made rings around my own eyes. SO GROSS!) I'm guessing the fish was at least 14 inches long. Most likely, he caught the fish, and it was too heavy to fly up to the nest, so he stopped in a low spot, somewhere he could reach. (click on any picture to view it larger)

I could see that he was doing his best to eat the fish, most likely to make it light enough to fly it up to the nest. You can see him testing the weight and trying to take off. He did this frequently.

He sat there, all told, for at least 45 minutes eating his fish. At one point, a crow got very interested.

Until finally the osprey made a noise toward the crow and it flew away.

On my next trip back to that side of the river, I could really see that the osprey had eaten at least half of the fish. One whole side had the skin and a good deal of flesh taken off.

A few minutes later, the osprey flew off, taking the fish with him, back to his chicks in the nest.

Random Musings

I haven't posted in awhile. I came down with a terrible cold that turned into a terrible sinus infection. I think I was sicker with this cold than I've been in years. I actually took time off work, which can sometimes be a big deal. To call in sick on short notice (the week of is short notice), you first call the supervisor and let him know, then you call the pager phone. There's a handful of people who don't work full time on the ferries, but have their licenses and work elsewhere for Public Works. They're Relief Ferry Operators. Some work on the bridge crew, other on road crews. They rotate who has the pager phone, and when they have it, they're on call and if needed, stop what they're doing and head to the boats. Or come in on their days off. By the time I got off the phone with my supervisor, had a coughing fit and blew my nose, he'd already called the relief on call. So when I called the relief, he answered the phone, "Hey sickie!" He had no problem coming in, which was great. Some people make a bigger deal out of it, usually because the commute can be pretty long, especially down to this boat. But now I'm mostly all better and am back at work. I think the osprey eggs have hatched. I was looking through the binoculars, and I'm pretty sure I saw two grey fuzzy heads poke above the nest when a parent landed with some food. I can't wait until they fledge. It's hard to see them when they're still so small. Even though the nest is so close to the ferry ramp, it's up a 30 foot pole, so I can't see into the nest. The best view is from the other side of the river, looking through binoculars. Yesterday, my sister drove down with her kids, ages 5 and 2, to spend the week with family. They made it to the boat a mere 15 minutes before I closed for the night, which was perfect. My nephew helped me close up, by pushing closed the gate, carrying the flag, and wrapping the chain. It was great fun, and my niece ran along with us. I love it when kids I know come on board, there's so much fun stuff to show them. My nephew and I climbed down into the machinery room to turn off a machine for the night, but while we were down there, the air compressor was on, which makes a huge roar. I think he liked that, it felt very industrial. Today, a guy from the sign shop came down to the boat. I was so happy to see him. When they originally placed the signs for the ferry, they didn't get them all right. On the west side of the river, the stop sign is up so far that if a car stops there, I can't see them at all if I'm across the river. So a car will come to the ferry, stop at the sign, like they should, and sit there, not knowing I have no idea they're over there! So that sign will be moved down, closer to the ramp, so I can actually see them. On the other side of the river, we've got a big problem with semi trucks following their GPS and thinking they can come across the river. The problem is that there's nowhere for them to turn around. If a semi comes down, it'll have to be backed up a quarter mile, and around a sharp corner. Not fun. I've gotten into very heated arguments with truckers about that, when they try to insist they'll fit on the ferry just so they don't have to back up. I think I recall actually saying to a trucker once, "I am the captain of this vessel and what I say goes!" Shut him up quick! I wish I was more familiar with bird songs. There's a bird that sings right when I show up in the morning. It's loud and sweet. I would love to know who's singing to me! Sunday this week was crazy busy. Wings of Wonder, a butterfly garden in the little community here, closed its' doors and Sunday was it's last day. On top of that, it was Father's day, a sunny day, plus, it was graduation day at OSU, 20 minutes away, and Michelle Obama was the keynote speaker. I didn't have a break in cars at all between 9:30 am and 6 pm. At one point, I was struggling to come with a few spare moments to use the bathroom! I've been seeing a lot of heavy tractors this week. I took one tractor across, that was pulling a plowing thing or seeder or something, that could plow 24 rows at once. Right now, as I'm writing this, I'm carrying a large truck with a large tank on the bed, and the truck is towing a trailer that takes up both rows of traffic. On the trailer is a tractor that looks like it's a sprayer, for fertilizing fields. Big tanks, narrow wheels and long arms that swing out on each side. The driver just had to climb up onto the tractor to bring one of the arms back in, it'd managed to swing out. Hmmm, I'm sure I can come up with more random things I've seen or dealt with in the last few weeks, but I'll stop here.

Odd car stuff

Wednesday was a day of odd car happenings. Around noon, I look up the hill on the west side, and a small pickup truck rolled down the hill, and looked as if it was going to park next to my car, where there's a small gravel area, space enough for about 3 cars. Instead of parking there, the car tried to park on the edge of the gravel, right where a deep ditch starts. As I watch, the car seemed to park just slightly in the ditch, then rolled slowly forward, until one of it's back wheels was off the ground and it was fully in the ditch. What on earth!? The driver eventually got out, and stood there scratching his head, before wandering down to the boat and asking if we had a phone book so he could call a tow truck. Instead of offering him that, I suggested that he walk up to the first house on the hill, and as if they could help. The family at that first house seems to have a plethora of cars in various stages of repair, plus plenty of machinery. The ditched driver seemed a bit ashamed to go ask for help, but within 5 minutes, he and the neighbor came down in a big pickup, tied a chain to the truck and yanked him out. It was pretty remarkable that he got himself out of the ditch so quickly. It also made me very happy to have ferry neighbors like that, people I can call on for help whenever I or someone else needs it.

Late in the afternoon, about 15 minutes before closing, a motorcycle rolls on board, with it's power off. That's not super unusual, it's a steep enough hill that it's easy to coast. The rider was very friendly, and we gossiped for a few minutes before he said that he thinks his battery was dead. It was a new to him bike, and he had a feeling the battery was getting old. He had a nifty little charger that plugged into any outlet. Because of the size of the plug, it wouldn't fit into the outdoor outlets on the boat, so he rolled his bike up to the front door of the cabin, and the cord reached the outlet in there. So he and I sat and chatted for the last 10 minutes or so before the boat closed, I closed up, we went across and by then, his battery was charged enough to start, and away he rolled.

Hauled Out

Last weekend, I got word that the ferry was closed, again. In fact, it was closed for the same reason it was closed the last time. The computers that work the drives (which work the motors which work the propellers) were faulty. Last time it was the upstream drive, this time it was the downstream. The electricians told us they'd have the part by Tuesday, so we were closed until then. As usual when the boat is closed, I took Sunday off, cause a 4 day weekend is pretty great. On Monday, I showed up at the shops, and knew I'd end up working up at the WL ferry, since it's been hauled out of the water for the Coast Guard 5 year inspection, and a lot of maintenance. It was so very strange looking. The whole ferry, up the ramp and on blocks on solid ground. It suddenly seemed way huger than it looks in the water.

I spent the day at various odd cleaning and painting tasks. I took down ceiling tiles and painted them. As I took them down, thousands of tiny dead spiders rained down on my head. After painting the tiles, I cleaned the roof of the cabin, getting more dirt, grime and dead bugs in my hair and on my face. I was happy to find a face mask to wear for the cleaning. It was disgusting.

While several of us were puttering on the boat, painting and cleaning, some of the guys were setting up the barge to dredge, since the river was low and they were already kicking up rock before they closed.

Of course, the following three days, the river went up two or three feet, making it impossible to dredge. I'm not sure if they can dredge even now. Supposedly, once they eventually finish at the WL, they'll come down to the BV and dredge there too. I have no idea how that'll work out, whether they'll dredge at night, close the boat or what. I'm also curious what my participation will be. A coworker who was running the boat, which you can see to the left of the backhoe, said it wasn't that hard to do, and actually a bit boring. That'd work maybe.

I just realized as I wrote this post that I've now written 103 blog posts. I don't think I ever would have expected this blog to last 100 posts when I started!