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Kimberly Murray

A loud horn blast awoke me from my sleep. I scaned the room looking for the neon glow from the walmart digital clock that was pearched upon the dresser. "Uhg" 4:30 am what could be causing that rucuss. Stumbeling around in the dark I managed to find my three pairs of long underwear, a pair of paint splattered sweatpants and my two wool sweaters. Going to the coat hook I grabbed my hip waders and survival jacket, both were still damp. Managing to get all of it on in a short period of time I waddled out of my room resembling the Michelen Man plus a few extra tires.

Climbing down the stairs to the kitchen I noticed the small group of men that made up our camp. There was Paul leaning against the door with a smoke haning out of his mouth and a big cup of black java. "Whats going on Paul"? I asked, more tired than concerned. Paul was a long time friend, from my highschool days. He had gotten me the job at camp when he had heard I was looking for summer employment. I had taken him on as my guid, and instructor to farm life since I had arrived at camp. "It's Bad News Kim", he sighed. "Whats the Bad News"?I asked becoming a bit concerned. He laughed at my worried expression. "What's up do you think were sinking or something"? .The bad news is the frieghter that comes whenever it pleases to drop off the feed, unfortunally we get to unload it now."

"Alright men a voice gruffed in between coughing, lets get this bastard unloaded so we can get back to sleep". Our manager trugged into the utility shed and hit the switch. The halogen lights flicked on as the generator booted up. There it was the "Bad News", with a portriat of Yo Samity Sam on her bow she looked like a frieghter that had seen better days. She carried loads of fish food, each bag weighed around 40 pounds. Some of the crew loaded the food onto movable trollys, while I and a few of the other guys stacked the bags onto the pallets in the feed shed.

I did not have the strenghth compared to the men when it came to the physical jobs. I could not lift three bags of food at once, and was lucky to be able to move one at a time. Since arriving at the camp I had worried I would not be able to keep up with the men. Being the only girl on the site had made me wonder if I would be excepted, but I had been treated equally as one of the team. And where I lacked in physical strength I made up with my computer skills.

After the bad news had been unloaded we retired back to the float house Exhaused and soaking wet I made it to my room and pealed out of all my layers. I crawled into my two pairs of pajamas, and three pairs of socks.

I awoke before the anoying buzz of my alarm clock went off, I was automatically programed to awake at seven in the morning. I looked out the small window in my room, no surpirse there, rain agian. It had rained ten days straight since I had been at the farm. The rain I had noticed ranged in many varietys. There was misting rain, drizzeling rain, and the harder stuff which soaked you instantly as soon as you steped out the door. The worst rain of all was the sideways rain that seemed to pealt you at every angle. I was pretty much sick of the rain, but being off the coast of Port Mc Neil I didn't expect anything else.

I stumbeled into the kitchen, had a few gulps of burnt black coffee, grabbed a peice of toast and made my way to the room which held my computer equipment. Grabbing my laptop and all the wiring I blanketed it with plastic bags and trugged out side to my lean to. The lean to was a bright orange tarp converted into my office. I placed my laptop onto the plank and headed back for the printer. The printer was from the 80's and made the feed bags seem light. Hooking up all my equipment I made sure that all the electrical plugs got a extra coating of plastic baggies taped around them, with this rain I wasn't taking chances. With the equipement ready to go I signaled Paul and Doug. Time to let the scanning begin.

My days since arriving at the farm consisted mostly of data entry. Each salmon contained a tiny ID chip that would be picked up by the scanner. We would record the health, weight and length of the fish. Scanning went by fairly fast with a team of usually two, netting and placing the salmon on the scales. Scanning hundreds of fish a day had you dreaming of places far away from the smell and the splash of salmon.

At the end of the day everyone would relax with a home cooked meal. We all took turns on the float house making dinner, and the food was always excellent. We ate like kings and settled in for the night with full stomachs.

After dinner you could watch cable, play a game of cards, or my personal favorite was sitting on the balcony when there was a break in the weather reading a good book. There was also rave music you could go listen to. One of the workers had brought his turn tables onto the float house, some of the tracks he had put together weren't all that bad.

After two weeks at camp I craved solid land, fast food, and bad entertainment. The pristine beauty of the untouched landscape did not impress me anymore, I wanted cement, smoke, neon lighting, the town called me back and I was ready to leave. When the water taxi came to change crews it seemed surreal leaving the float house.

I made a good wage working out at the farm and took myself on a trip to California with it. I figured putting up with two weeks of rain called for some serious sun. It was worth it.