Saturday, December 31, 2016

A Seasonal's Greetings

A Seasonal’s Greetings

When people ask me where I live, I’ll say Catalina Island for simplicity, but the truth is, I make my home all up and down the stunning West Coast of this country. For 2 years I have shuffled and shifted jobs and houses from the blue waters of Catalina to the dark forests of Alaska and bounced around everywhere in between. I rearrange my life with the turn of each season, chasing salmon, halibut, crab in the summer, and yellowtail, bonito, and lobster in the winter. Our government would classify me as “casually employed”, and while I bristle a bit at that designation, I’ll admit that I’ve essentially been on a paid vacation since college. Brilliant sunsets, breaching whales, shark fins breaking the surface at dawn, leaping dolphins, I have beheld wonders! For all this, the greatest treasures I’ve encountered in my journeys have been the amazing people who cross my path. Students, teachers, tourists, guides, locals, friends and family, I’ve been so privileged to share in their stories. Unfortunately for them, and for me, I’m awfully hard to track down in my life of constantly shifting addresses and cell phone coverage. So today, on Christmas Eve of 2016, I’m writing to a few of you to give a glimpse of my year and my adventures. Prepare to be jealous.

2016 began with a free cruise courtesy of my employers on Catalina to the so-called Mexican Riviera. The highlight was Cabo San Lucas, infamous tourist trap, where some of my co-workers knew a local kid who had worked at our summer camp named Alex. He and his twin brother met us at the dock and transformed Cabo from the spring break swamp I’d expected into an extremely fascinating stop. Breaching whales, dramatic geography, leaping stingrays, and damned fine fish tacos, enough said. Locals have this incredible power to cut through the crap and bring out the magic in a place, whether it be Seattle, Ketchikan, or Malvern, Ohio. My advice to travelers is go where you know! Not a place you know, but where you have friends or family, the kind of people who can truly show you what makes a place special. For those of you who don’t travel as much, save me a spot on your couch!

After the cruise I returned to the Catalina Environmental Leadership Program for a quiet winter that rapidly transformed into a busy spring. The drought withers on in the Channel Islands, even if Northern California has been quenched, and we worked very hard this year to save every drop of water we could. I’ll admit, I became a little pungent. It’s funny, when I first came to the island, I was, for an environmental educator, rather resistant to sustainable practices and environmental science. Over the years though, that place, it's message of building a green future, and so many inspiring people have steadily chipped away at my resolutions against hippiedom. My sister experienced this firsthand this week when she tossed an avocado skin in the garbage rather than the compost. Let no tree go unhugged!

For the summer I returned to Ketchikan, embraced by my seasonal brethren and locals alike. Once more I was guiding zodiacs across the cold green waters of Alaska, praying to Poseidon under my breath for whales, tossing tilapia at eagles, and sipping entirely too much good beer at the Asylum. The summer started quietly, but as I grew closer to my old and new comrades, the weeks began to fly by as each day became filled to the brim with fishing, hiking, paintball, sailing, and some very high quality Dungeons and Dragons. The pinnacle was when we stacked 14 people onto my buddy Devon’s 27 foot sailboat and cruised into the Tongass Narrows for the 4th of July. We bluffed the US Coast Guard, sang sea shanties to the entire city of Ketchikan perched on the cruise berths, and Devon sailed us all directly underneath the finale of the fireworks show, it was like sailing into a cathedral of fire. The summer was once again unusually warm, with sunny days more common than the rainy ones, but after so many months of dry, crackling heat in California, the sound of rain falling on the sea was music to my ears, recalling distant memories of Puget Sound. Convincing tourists of the same thing proved challenging, but I realized the trick to a good tour is to have more fun than your guests could ever dream of having. My first summer was all about learning what Ketchikan was, this one was about enjoying it.

Adjusting to Catalina again after such a vibrant summer in Alaska was a struggle initially, but the season turned into one of the best I’ve had in a long time. I took another step on my road to hippie by finally utilizing my hammock on a regular basis, and spent many an afternoon wrapped up in that thing, reading Shantaram, a book I highly recommend to anyone reading this. As the pelagic fishes lingered into September, I took up my speargun once more and plunged into our crystal waters. As fun as that was, my Alaskan summer had given me a taste for trolling, and we managed to hook quite a few good sized bonito. We had 90% of our lobster pots lost or stolen, so that kind of put the Dentinger Lobster Experience out of business for the year, but stay tuned for future upgrades. I got very excited about Canary Island Garlic Mojo Sauce this season, and you could find a bottle of my custom garlic-laden sauce at the staff table for most every meal. This was a treat, but in a series of unfortunate circumstances that I shall spare you, I discovered that it is in fact possible to eat too much garlic in a day, it is wise to limit yourself to no more than 4 raw cloves!

Left Catalina and began another epic road trip back to Bellingham, Washington. After my family’s thanksgiving in the Bay, I flew out to Malvern Ohio to see my Ketchikan friends at their Friendsgiving. Much like Cabo, with the right guide any place can reveal it's hidden value. At one point a very nice man from Ohio asked me to ‘explain California’ which led to an excellent conversation about politics. A take home lesson for me, and for all of us, is that no matter who you voted for, the vast majority of us are sane and are hoping for a brighter, better future. Whenever we assume the other candidate’s supporters aren’t worth listening to or understanding, we help to reinforce the deep divisions that we saw so loudly demonstrated over the past year in this country. Pardon the nod to the political.

Joined by Grayson and Turtle from Catalina, we meandered North, deeper and deeper into the familiar forests and mountains of the Pacific Northwest. When you leave Southern California for Washington State, your autumn occurs at whatever pace you can make it up I-5, the sun and palm trees quickly overtaken by cold winds, towering trees, and snowy mountain passes. Showing my friends around the northwest gave me a new appreciation for this place, as we’d round a corner into a valley I’ve known from childhood and their jaws would drop at the vista. We took out my father’s sailboat into the San Juan islands and overnighted at Friday Harbor, the beauty there was otherworldly, it was as if we had departed Middle Earth and arrived in Valinor. I was only in Washington for 8 days in 2015, and it has been wonderful coming back home and getting lost in the ever-changing streets of Bellingham. The snows have fallen and melted several times since I’ve been back, it’s among the coldest winters I’ve seen here in a long while.

I find my role in the ecosystem of my parents house is to cook as much as possible so as to offset my alien presence. Another trick I picked up this year was the joy of cooking for others, usually a big piece of meat. Nothing says “I’m glad to be your friend” like showing up unannounced at your friend’s place with 2 racks of ribs and a 4 hour plan to make them heavenly. Tonight I’m preparing a crown roast of pork with stuffed with apples, bacon, and shallots. If it works my parents will be satiated for one more night, if not, there’s a lot of beer nestled into the snow on their balcony! Thank you so much to everyone who is reading this, each of you enriches my life every day.

Happy New Year, and May the Force be with You.

-David Dentinger

Tuesday, January 24, 2012

Eagle Chase!

As I was out running along the windswept shores of Lake Whatcom yesterday, I came upon a pair of bald eagles in a tree near the end of the trail. While the nature of their relationship remains a mystery, I quickly shut off my ipod and attempted to sneak up on them to get a closer look. An eagle wrangler on Catalina Island once told me that it was impossible to covertly approach one of these magnificent birds, but I disregarded her wisdom and made the attempt. I spooked one of them but unwittingly managed to get within 30 feet of its friend, who flapped off squawking after I stepped on a dry leaf. The eagles escaped this time, but someday I'm going to catch one and train it to carry me on it's back!


Sunday, March 27, 2011

Mud!

Tried to take a van into town today, was planning on running the five miles back to camp, but sadly weather conditions did not cooperate. It rained a lot more than I had realized last night, and dry dusty roads were transformed into nightmares of brown puddles and deep mud. I was piloting the van with all of the skill and excellence one might expect from the talented pillar of glory that is David Dentinger, when I came around a corner and observed Abigail Johnston (her backstory will be unveiled in an upcoming entry) spinning the wheels of the camp's F350. Her difficulties in the four wheel drive truck crippled my confidence in my driving arts, so I made a speedy retreat back to camp, although I will say the quarter mile of driving in reverse on island roads was a very nice piece of vehicle operation. If you'd seen it you would have been impressed. The van had been meant to transport a new crew of volunteers and some staff returning from time off, including the infamous womanizer Jimmy Kirkham, but the depth of mud proved too much for even the F350. And so it was that Becky summoned a shoreboat and saved the day.

Also I watched Season of the Witch. Was not impressed.

Saturday, March 26, 2011

Gunfight at Upper Boys Camp Field

So this weekend the site manager's son Tommy Kern had some friends over and they had spent the afternoon running around engaging in a lengthy cycle of spraying airsoft pellets at each other and pausing behind cover for the arduous reloading process. My roommate Phillip and I were walking by and immediately came under heavy fire from the guns of the renegade children, and had to make a rapid tactical retreat to our cabin, as we ran screaming back to the porch of Riptide, we noticed that a whole bunch of student volunteers were standing around gawking at something, and we halted, panting heavily and stared out across the field toward the High Ropes course to find a bison grazing. Not wanting to spook the beast we took a moment to caution children and college students alike from approaching much closer, and it was then that Tommy's mother, Holly Kern, arrived on the scene. Clad in her foul weather gear and a beanie, and with both hands in her front jacket pockets, she strode up quietly and stepped into the circle of her son, his three friends, and myself. I didn't take note of the fact that she wasn't saying much or even that she wore a pair of yellow safety glasses, but drew forth her hands and revealed her twin airsoft pistols, her murderous intent became explicitly obvious. I ducked and ran for cover, knowing that a duel of stunning ferocity was about to ensue, and I was not to be disappointed, for within moments, the sounds and screams of a pitched airsoft skirmish filled the air.

Saturday, January 29, 2011

Tales of the Bike Tour

Touring on Bikes

Hey it's me, I'm still alive, been a bit busy lately hence the silence.

I have recently returned from a monstrous bike trip up the coast of California, and find myself writing from my grandparent's home in Cupertino, CA. As a man who can write thousands of words to describe a single day (and does so regularly on this blog) I now find myself struggling to overcome the ultimate blogging challenge; brevity. In lieu of a more detailed account of events that occurred on this trip, I shall merely impart a few excerpts of particularly memorable instances on the tour.


One of the primary by-products of the great and worthy adventure from which I have just returned is the acquisition of a road bike. I was assisted in my online search for a bike by Becky Morrow, Julie Baweja, and Danny Sudman, the latter of whom can claim the honor of locating my bike in Mission Viejo. I purchased it for a wallet-compressing 500 dollars, which admittedly was less than most of the other people on the tour were forced to spend. The bike which came to rule the next 18 days of my life following its purchase was painted a distinctive blue and white, with red accents and red tires, thus making it the most patriotic of the vehicles on the trip. Being the incorrigible ass that I am, I promptly named the bike in honor of the most reviled American politician in recent history; Richard D. Nixon, Tricky Dick for short.

Having never ridden a road bike before, I had little concept of what to expect upon mounting up for the first time, on the second day of the trip after a few minor repairs were made (new clamp for seat pole and new bottom bracket). I will say I was somewhat apprehensive about the diminutive size of the seat that came with it, but my comrades assured me that such frugal seating technology is the mark of a truly exceptional cyclist. And so I mounted up on my bike that day in the bright sunshine of Santa Monica. We then rode off to the North, passing through the luxurious residences that dot the coast of Malibu, the cliffs soaring overhead. Some other stuff happened, and then...



Wednesday, November 3, 2010

The Octopus

So today I led a snorkel/kayak to Indian Rock. Although half of my kids decided to sit it out on the beach (mutiny again!) those who followed me into the depths were glad afterward. It was an awesome dive and I accomplished the following deeds:

1. Spotted and identified Paul Allen's yacht, Octopus at Ship Rock. It was easily the biggest yacht I have ever seen, eclipsing even Diddy's yacht that came out for the Fourth of July my first summer (and that was also a vessel of truly gargantuan proportions).

Octopus

2. While pointing out an abalone to a group of students, I inadvertently disturbed a baby octopus, about six inches in length, which immediately swam out into the open where all the children could see it. This was one of the coolest experiences I've had snorkeling out here.

3. Dodged an incoming ferry by urging all of my students to kick hastily out of its trajectory.

4. The aforementioned ferry-dodging allowed me to locate the 2 largest bat rays I have ever encountered AND show them to kids. Wing span estimate: 4.5 feet

Tuesday, October 26, 2010

Some quotes from today

This will be short for once...

Following a conversation about the cultural traditions of the Aztec Empire, Andrew remarked on the primitive brutality of such practices.
Me: "Perhaps, but many of the truths we cling to depend greatly on our own point of view"
Danny: "Wow that was eloquent David"
Me: "Unfortunately I cannot take credit, as these were the words of the Jedi Master Obi-Wan Kenobi, still, Kenobi has much to teach us, so I quote him often."
Andrew: "See, I prefer to quote Vader, 'I am disturbed by your lack of faith'"
Me: "No doubt you mean, 'I find your lack of faith disturbing...'"
Andrew: "Alright, so I like to paraphrase Vader..."