The Cosmic Hamlet by the Sea

I've finally found the edge of the world.

I've found the jewel of the coast, like if Jackson Hole were drowned in misting ocean and the Tetons jutted out of nothing, hazing clouds, with glowing islands in the foreground and the spit humming at midnight with the docks and the ships and the broken down busses reconstructed by tramps. The halibut capital of the world. The home of Deadliest Catch, the end of the Alaskan highway. I've made it to Homer.

And I'm living in a yurt on top of a mountain overlooking the town and the bay and the spit and the Kenai Range that on a clear day should be spectacular but the rain I've brought with me keep it shrouded in mist and mystery. I met Sven in Talkeetna and told him I was headed to Homer, he said, "Oh, I'm from Homer." When I got to town, I called him and he brought me to the yurt and said I could stay there until I move into the converted bus which has electricity and a stove and beds to snuggle into. We bring water up from town, we have a generator, even wireless internet. No fridge or plumbing. Life is astonishing and strange and beautiful. On Wednesday, Jazz took us to Fern Gully, a sparkling forest full of mossy mounds, terribly soft and beautiful. Jazz' dad is a baker, Sven's dad is a fisherman, mechanic, carpenter, engineer, inventor, and philosopher (and just generally a truly groovy cat). Then I met Kristin, who is always barefoot in Alaska and is preparing to head to Nome (the true edge of the world) to gold mine for a couple weeks. She took me out to a cabin for a night, trekking through mud for hours in the dark and mosquitoes, around bear poop, and we saw a moose. Cooked salmon and home-butched bacon, potatoes, cracked wheat pancakes, and tea. The view over the bluff was quiet and perfect. In the morning, Kristin found a rabbit caught in the fence protecting the garden. When it saw her coming, it panicked and strangled itself. That afternoon, Kristin's dad Kanut showed us how to skin, cut and cook a rabbit. Also how to tan a hide.

That's the thing about the people around here: they know how to do anything in the world and are the toughest, wisest, and most self-sufficient people I've ever seen. They can catch and prepare anything, cook anything, build anything, fix anything, drive any kind of vehicle, fix any kind of engine, and have some of the most practical utilitarian wisdom I've ever seen.

Within 24 hours of arriving, I got a job cleaning and packaging and freezing fish. The pay is good, the hours are good, there's good music to be listened to and good company. The owner is a Hawaiian from Molokai, but also an old Alaskan sourdough of 30 years, he seems to also be the ever-capable kind and he's agreed to teach me certain vital skills if I hang around the job long enough (like filleting fish, and whatever elements of the fishing or hunting world I'm interested in knowing). On Wednesday we hope Sven's dad will take us sailing in the bay and hopefully in 2 weeks, Kristin's dad will take us across to where we can kayak to the shore and hike and camp for a few days. Through the window I can see the glaciers rising immense over the bay.

I also have a lead on a job as a farm hand (which would provide me on-property housing) which I'm planning on following up on tomorrow, and I looked into being a baker, but the season is already winding down and they are overstaffed as it is.

This town is incredible. Hopefully the next two days (which I have off from work) will offer me a good chance to really engage with it all.

I hope everyone reading this is healthy and happy.
All my love,
Theo