China Poot By Rick Day

“Do you want to go with Sarah and me to China Poot and dipnet salmon?” That was the beginning. Jess, my son-in-law, asked me that question one day in August. “Well, Okay.” I got in the truck and traveled to Homer, which is at the very end of the road on the Kenai Peninsula. What a beautiful place! It’s a harbor town with a lot of very large boats and the famous Homer Spit.

We had a 16’ Alumicraft with a motor. It looked pretty big to me until we started out from the port and entered the big water and suddenly everything started getting smaller and smaller. The water was nice and calm, and we soaked up the bright sunny day on the 19 mile ride across the Kachemak Bay. It /was nice to be out there with my daughter and son-in-law.

We got closer to the south end of the bay and the notice the spectacular scenery. We were greeted by hundreds of birds and other sea life along the gigantic bluffs. Sea lions were floating around and puffins, eagles, and all the other birds along the coast reminded me of Jurassic Park.

China Poot is a river that comes out from the Kenai Mountains and flows into the Kachemak Bay. At the mouth, the aqua blue glacial water was very clear and still. We piloted the boat up the channel, and it got narrower and narrower, and we had to beach the boat. Jesse was, of course, off and running with the huge dip net in hand. He and the six foot pole and 40 inch diameter net were climbing the hill (mountain). Sarah and I were still thinking about getting out of the boat and wading to the shore.

“Jesse” yelled Sarah, “Wait!”

His first response was “Just follow the path”. He didn’t leave us there to go it alone; he helped us out and got us started.

The banks of the river were huge boulders that stood straight up. We started down ‘the path’ that was only about 18” wide. It ran along side of the river. About a half of a mile in, the once calm river started getting more and more violent. All the water from the melting mountain was coming down and flowing into the bay. We went up and up the side hills along this little path. It seemed like nobody thought I was going to make it, but the adventurer in me thought I knew I was okay.

By now the banks were really steep and there wasn’t any thing to grab on to that didn’t have sharp needle like pickers on them. The plant, I think they call “Devil’s Claw” was every where. Whatever it was, it made the trip even more challenging. We were up then down; climbing then sliding. Jesse didn’t seem to have much trouble climbing up the slopes, but on the other hand, his legs are much longer than Sarah and mine. We don’t have mountain climbing legs, but our short stubby legs would do real well on flat ground in a storm.

Finally, we came to this steep place that was down straight about ten to twelve feet. At the bottom was a ledge about a foot wide.. We were suppose to shimmy down and hopefully hit this skinny little ledge that ran along the river, which by this time was time was a fast roaring, full blown rapids. Sarah and I looked at each other and silently wondered how this was going to happen. Though we were worried, we weren’t going to let Jesse know that as he stood at the bottom encouraging us by saying, “Come on, just slide down and I will catch you.”

I assessed the situation: I was supposed to slide this 250 pound body down the bank and to Jesse, who was standing on this narrow ledge, catch me . . . send Sarah first! I used the old “Ladies first”. I tell you, this was really starting to make me nervous. So, slowly we edged our way down the bank. Sarah made it. With Sarah in front of me and Jess back too far to help (as if he could anyway), it was my turn. I made my move and before I knew it I was down. It wasn’t a bad as it looked.

We scooted along this ledge like jumpers on a skyscraper, holding on to the rocks until we finally reached the other side. Jesse patiently waited for Sarah and me to reach the other side. I can just imagine how all our laughing and yelling must have sounded. When we got to the other side, we realized, we now had to go back up the very steep hill before up. This time there was nothing to grab onto to pull ourselves up; not even Devil’s Club. There were no foot holds and those that were there were really along way apart.

Between these short legs and no upper body strength, this was going to be fun. I wasn’t the only one. Sarah was having a little bit of a hard time, so I braced to be the pusher while Jesse stood above pulling, laughing and yelling the whole time. Pushing, then sliding, then pushing again until we got the job done. There was no one behind me to do any pushing, so Jesse found me a walking stick about five foot long and used it to pull me up.

We found ourselves on a somewhat level path. It was up and down again. After that the trip was a bit calmer. There seemed to be a lot of roots to go over and under. By this time Jesse saw that it was going to be okay for Sarah and me, so he took off up the trail with net in hand. Sarah and I took our time and made it to the steep long down hill climb to the waterfall where Jesse was attempting to dip for Red Salmon.

At last, we came to the edge of the embankment and were in desperate need of a few minutes to kick back and catch our breath. I looked up and saw Jess coming up the hill. The first words out of his mouth were, “There’s nothing here; we have to go back.”

Sarah and I looked at each other and then at Jesse and simultaneously shouted “WHAT! We just got here.” One look at us must have been enough to convince him to stop and relax for awhile. We settled down for a few minutes and enjoyed the scenery. It was so amazing. It kind of looked like a place in Africa, only this was tropical Alaska.

After photo shoots and a little conversation we started on the return journey. The trek out was just as bad as the trek in only in reverse. Once safe inside the boat, we broke out our Subway sandwiches and headed out across the bay. I sat point and Sarah was in the middle each enjoying the ride.

All of the sudden, things started to change, and it started getting more and more bumpy. Water was splashing around, and it was kind of fun. Every time I tried to take a bite of my sandwich, I missed my mouth. We were laughing so hard until we realized it was getting bumpier and bumpier.

The boat I thought was pretty big was now getting lifted up and slammed down. HARD! The water became more and more hostile. I looked at Sarah and she wasn’t laughing anymore. BAM! BAM! The boat bounced up and down hitting the water hard. I looked at Jess and said “What the hell is going on? Slow down!” I looked harder and notice Jesse wasn’t smiling anymore either.

By this time, my sub was pretty much all over my face. Sarah looked very worried and tensioned filled the air. We were still ten miles out in the middle of the bay and not one boat anywhere in sight. My glasses were useless, so I took them off, threw my sub down, and tried to hang on. It was rough. I believe Jesse was looking for somewhere to go, but there was nothing but water in every direction.

At one point, Sarah turned to look at me with worried eyes, she look a little harder then exclaimed, “Dad, you have lettuce all over your face.” Instinctively, I release my death hold and started to wipe off my face. Then it dawned on me as I grabbed hold one more time and shouted, “So what, I am going to die!”

By now, my stomach was very nervous and panic was in the air. For the next ten minutes we kept heading for Homer Spit. Jesse had to slow us down to a crawl to keep us from tipping. Then all of the sudden, it got better. Everything started to smooth out, and the wind wasn’t quite as strong. Just like that – smooth sailing. We were all soaking wet, cold, and fried from the whole range of emotions, but very thankful that it seemed better.

Gratefully, we reached the harbor and went back to the marina. After all the activity and the cool and wet ride home, I had a hard time getting out of the boat. My leg just didn’t want to work. As Sarah and I stood waiting to load the boat, both freezing on that August night in Alaska, I was grateful for that China Poot adventure. It was really a great trip. Would I do it again? Yeah. - Except for the ebb tide and tsunami. It was just another day in the life and times of Rick Day.