I hadn't been to Snettisham in three weeks (and hadn't worked the last weekend I was there), so I was anxious to get back, especially with fall looming near.  Chris and Dru were interested in halibut fishing, so we decided to all head down to the homestead; I'd work during the day while the boys fished, then we'd get together in the cozy lodge for the evenings. Thursday after work I cruised down to Taku Fisheries and picked up ice, then filled the jerry jugs with gas and headed to the harbor.  Since it had been raining pretty hard, I wanted to make sure the battery was good (i.e., not drained by the bilge pump) and everything ship shape, so I started the engine and let it idle after fueling up.  In the meantime, I went ahead and delivered the ice to the boat to save us the trouble the next day (something I usually do with help).

On Friday we hauled a 4x4x12' beam, propane tank, and our gear down to the boat and loaded up.  Dru met us at the launch ramp in the Little Bitty and we headed out around 4:40 with high spirits on relatively calm seas.  We started seeing whales around Limestone Inlet and I counted about nine by the time we entered the Port--solo animals and one pair.  As I approached the beach at the homestead I was dismayed by the lack of whining sounds behind me and turned to find that the automatic tilt on the engine wasn't working.  This was not particularly good news, but at least the tide was high so I was able to get right up to the log where the engine hit bottom at the same time as the bow.  We offloaded our gear, then Dru took off to anchor while I futzed around with the engine tilt.  Sometimes the manual tilt screw gets loosened such that the engine won't stay upright, but that didn't appear to be the problem (I tried to tighten it unsuccessfully).  The faint click we could hear every time I tried to tilt it was the only clue.  We knew the battery wasn't dead, but couldn't figure it out otherwise.  This wasn't the worst problem to face, so I tried to not let it get me down.  I picked up Dru and ferried him to shore, then tied on the kayak and headed for deep water where the Ronquil would not go aground.  It was a longer kayak in, so by the time I reached the lodge Chris had hauled everything up the beach and had a pleasant fire going inside, and the Subway sandwiches were all sorted and ready.  We chatted for a while, then headed to bed relatively early.

The next morning I got up around 7:30, met up with Dru at the lodge, and started prepping for the day.  Chris joined us at 8:00 and warmed up by the fire while I made the boys lunch and Mexican hot chocolate.  They took off at 9:00 and I got to work on the triangle deck.  I find it interesting to note the discrepancies between what projects I plan for in the spring versus those that I actually accomplish.  I'm at about 50% of intended projects this year, but I wound up doing a lot of other unanticipated work, most notably bringing water to all the cabins.  The triangle deck falls somewhere inbetween, but I've become increasingly annoyed at having to step over the hole between the main deck and the smaller deck that connects to the stairs, and increasingly concerned about Nigel falling off as he makes the same short cut.  I'd talked to Carp about a design and decided to tackled it.  First I roughly figured out where the beam would be and where the two pier blocks should be located (in the middle and at one end).  I decided to support the end closest to the stairs on 2xs attached to the 4x4 post that supports the corner of the deck there.  I'd brought along a third pier block, but preferred not to dig a third hole if not necessary.  It turned out that digging in that area was ridiculously easy--nice soft earth and reasonable rocks (some of it was probably dirt dug up from our trench work under the deck last summer).  I soon had the pier blocks in place and nailed in some PT scraps to support the stair end of the beam.  I supported the other end with other scraps until the beam was reasonably level, then measured how long the posts would need to be.  These I cut, painted their cut ends with preservative, and nailed them in.  I also cut a 45 degree angle out of the end of the beam near the stairs so it butted up against the existing 4x4 post.  With small adjustments and a tiny bit of additional digging I had the posts in place plumb and directly beneath the beam. 

About this time I jammed my knee painfully against a nail sticking out and was briefly very cranky.  A few minutes later I looked up and saw an adult eagle flying directly toward me from downriver and, as she approached, I heard Jerome (the eaglet) screaming nearby.  Sure enough, mom landed in one of the trees near the point just upriver and there was Jerome sitting nearby.  I grabbed my camera and took a series of photos (unfortunately against a white sky).  As I did so, the other adult eagle flew in from upriver and landed in the top of the tree.  I got a quick photo of all of them together before he flew off again downriver.  It's pretty fun having a resident eaglet!  On the way back I admired the reams of gray current berries hanging off the bushes, slowing losing their yellowing leaves.  Myriad songbirds flitted through them (there was constant chatter), but they didn't appear to be targeting the berries themselves. 

Back on the job site, I started trying to determine how much the joists should cantilever over the beam.  The main consideration was aesthetics--I wanted the porch to extend to a particular piece of decking, but in order to support the 2x6s adequately, I had to extend the longest joist about six inches past the beam.  I took rough measurements of how long the joists would need to be to match this distance and cut them on the porch (they would all be trimmed together later).  I nailed in four joists with joist hangers against the connecting deck along with a very small joist on the short end that rested so comfortably on the beam that I only needed to add a few nails directly through the end of it into the side of the porch for additional support.  Two of the joist hangers were for slightly bigger boards and needed to have the tops of them pounded down.  Once all the joists were hung on the deck side I marked where they should rest on the beam and toe-nailed them in.  By this time it was early afternoon and I was famished.  All the joists were secure, so I cooked up some quesadillas, grabbed a beer, and sat on the porch, surrounded by songbird activity.  Without making any effort I could see chickadees (and hear their cheerful chatter), several species of sparrows, kinglets, juncos, wrens, and one very adorable Pacific slope flycatcher that perched tantalizingly on a bare topped spruce branch nearby.  He was darting in and out of a devil's club nearby and I caught him with a red berry in his bill.  Nearby I also took some very blurry photos of what I think was a brown creeper.  Jerome came in and flew circles right in front of me, gaining a little bit of altitude each time.  He finally headed to a perch on a dead tree on the side of the mountain nearby, but it collapsed underneath him; he scrambled for a few seconds to gain a foothold, then dropped in a free fall until he turned over, gained flight again, and found a more reliable perch near his nest.

During my break I also baked a coffee cake and installed a coat hook in the outhouse on Dru's suggestion.  When I got back to work, I started laying out decking on the joists and realized that I may have miscalculated something.  The angle on the joists was sharp enough (45 degrees) that the ends of some of the boards didn't have support and wound up "cantilevering" an alarming 12" or more.  To make sure they were well supported, I tacked on an additional short piece of 2x8 between several of the joists (I realized later that this was unnecessary, but it won't hurt).  I also discovered that I'd foolishly failed to notice whether the beam was properly level in relation to the main deck.  I'd made sure it was level enough, but a slight downward angle from the stairs put in an inch or two below where it needed to be on the far end.  I kicked myself for not having checked that, as the new deck was meant to connect to both other decks, not stand alone.  It took some work to convince it to raise even an inch, now that everything was attached, but I persevered by laborously wrenching it up and supporting it with scraps of wood while I adjusted the hole.  That was about when the boys returned from fishing.  I'd seen them enter Gilbert Bay late in the morning, then leave again some time later, which I didn't think was a good sign.  Sure enough, they'd had no luck with halibut, having pulled up only a cod and a few sculpinesque fishes.  We started a fire and they warmed up a bit and I soon made a salmon fettuccini dinner with huge servings of scrumptious coffee cake for dessert.  After dinner we played several rounds of scattergories before bed.

Ready for fishing	The beam	Family of eagles (dad on top, mom lower left, baby lower right
Jerome	Mother eagle taking flight	Gray currents
Jerome	Pacific slope flycatcher (I think)	Flycatcher

The next morning we went through the same routine; the boys left at 9:00 to try their luck in different locations and I returned to the deck.  All of us lacked motivation; the weather had turned from overcast to drenching rain, and it didn't let up all morning.  I donned rubber boots, rain jacket, rubber overall rain pants and an oilskin hat and got to work.  Once outside I didn't mind the weather at all--I actually enjoy working in the rain; the major downside is that gloves get slowly soaked and unpleasant, but I have plenty of them.  The first thing to do was cut the 45 degree angle on the ends of all the joists, the task that I was most uneasy about.  Operating a skillsaw on an upright board is a little tricky and I wasn't sure how accurate a job I could do.  But first, where to cut?  I settled on a cantilever of about four inches and marked the shortest and longest joists (the ones on either end).  Then I snapped a line connecting them to obtain a straight line; this is a lot easier when someone else can hold one end of the line, but I made do with some carefully placed nails to guide it.  The rain didn't help with this task, but I managed a functional line on my second try and used a sharpie to quickly immortalize it.  From there I used the level to mark a line down the side of the boards to follow.  The cutting went surprisingly well.  Due to the angle, I couldn't see the leading edge of the blade (which is how I usually guide a skillsaw) but discovered that I could trust the guide in front.  I had to use both hands to support and push it, so did two or three joists at a time, then rested.  I was generally pleased with the results.  Next?  Decking!  I laid out about half the boards on the longer side of the deck, thinking that some of the pieces I cut off might be long enough to use on the short end of the deck.  Once these were roughly placed, I made sure they lined up and were flush with their compatriots on the existing deck, then put in a single nail.  I made sure the whole board was straight, then put a nail in the end of it.  When everything was in place, I added some more nails for security, then tacked in a 2x6 across the ends of the joists underneath to mimic the piece I'll eventually put there.  This enabled me to snap a line exactly where the decking should end (on top).  Cutting the decking was relatively easy, though I think my saw blade was getting dull.  From there I repeated the process on the rest of the deck, using the cut ends of the new decking for all but three of the boards.  I made the mistake of working from the end of the deck in, and discovered when I got to the last board that it didn't fit; I had to pry a few boards up, but it was no great set back.  I repeated the nailing, snapping, and cutting process and, before I knew it, had a beautiful triangular deck.  Because I'd cantilevered the joists several inches beyond the beam, the long end of the deck near the stairs wasn't a perfect triangle, but a full board and a partial board are squared off before the angle starts.  I think it looks quite attractive.  I finished nailing in both ends of the decking, took some photos, and called it a morning. 

After lunch I made a gingerbread, read for a little bit, then sank into a very nice nap (I think it's only my second nap this summer!).  A note about the coffee cake and gingerbread: both called for eggs and water but, having no eggs, I gave it a shot without them.  I did add some oats, but nothing else.  Both turned out great.  After an hour on the couch, faint engine sounds woke me and I looked out to see the Little Bitty approaching.  They'd been skunked again, but pulled up several gorgeous sculpin (one was hooked through the eye and was mercy killed and used as bait, which wound up capturing a much larger fish!).  We got a fire going and Chris started a nap.  I played numerous rounds of solitaire (with no luck), then Dru and I played several rounds of mastermind, then a game of scrabble (at which I floundered miserably).  By then we were all pretty hungry, so I made philly cheese steak sandwiches (Snetty style), after which we celebrated our summers with champagne while listening to KXLL.

Ready to cut the second set of decking

Tools of the trade

The finished (for this year anyway) triangular deck

Sometime during the night the rain stopped.  I got up at 7:30 and immediately headed down the beach for a COASST survey (probably my last for the summer).  I thought going down the creek would be the easiest for my geriatric dog, but he'd gotten stuck behind a cliff down there last time and refused to follow me, heading down the trail to the point, presumably to take an alternate route.  I stumbled down onto the beach and looked back to see that Nigel had, after all, followed me.  I went back to help him but had to yell at him to stay, as he immediately headed back into the woods when he saw me turn around.  I picked what I thought were good routes around the big, slippery rocks for him, but he was a stubborn subject.  We eventually made it out onto the beach and headed upriver on the sand.  It was a lovely morning--calm, with the clouds beginning to part and a feeling of fall in the air.  We found no tracks on the beach, but did come across half a salmon that looked a lot like the half that Nigel found on the last COAAST survey!  We also noticed two juvenile bald eagles sitting together on a branch on the sandbars, both of whom flew off when we stared at them.  We checked it out on the way back and discovered a well-chewed salmon head.  I'd seen Jerome fly by with another young eagle the day before, and thought it was nice that he seemed to have another baby for a companion.  I took a few artsy shots of the beach with the boats in the background, and snapped a few photos of an adult eagle sitting picturesquely in a leaning spruce tree, then met up with Dru back at the lodge.  I made banana pancakes for breakfast (not my finest batch), then started on the other project I'd wanted to tackle that weekend--cutting the side trim for the insides of the windows.  I measured each one (they were mostly the same, but not quite), then decided that I really needed a new blade on the skillsaw for this job, since I would be cutting and ripping the pretty hemlock panels.  Unfortunately, no amount of effort would get the bolt on the skillsaw to loosen.  Instead, I turned to the jig saw.  About this time, Chris came over, so I took a break and had some Russian tea with him on the porch.  The setting was gorgeous--absolutely calm, the mountains reflecting in the river, warm sunshine, birds everywhere.  I was reluctant to go back to work, but wanted to finish this last little project.  The jig saw added considerable time (and vibrations) to the cutting, and I'm not sure it did a better job (I think moving faster with a skill saw may have made more accurate cuts).  It was agonizing to rip each piece (not to mention noisy), so I did it in portions.  When I finished the first five pieces, I took them inside and discovered that only two of them actually fit their windows, the others were almost a half inch too long.  These I trimmed, then cut a few more for the next windows, most of which also needed trimming, and so on until all were cut.  I didn't worry about nailing them in for now, and gratefully quit.  They look pretty good.

From there I made lunch and packed up.  Dru took me out to my boat around 1:00; I fueled up, started the engine, and discovered on the way to shore that my tilt was working again.  Hm!  We rendezvoused with Dru again at River Point, then he took off and we explored Snettisham a little on the way out.  I'd been worried about a brisk north wind that had picked up late in the morning, but was secretly hoping for flat calm seas.  I was disappointed!  When we turned and entered Stephen's Passage the seas built from widely spaced 2' swells to very uncomfortable 2-3' seas with white caps.  It was slow, but not intolerable going, but I was terrified of what we'd find in Taku Inlet.  Much worse than that would make a very scary crossing.  Unfortunately, we didn't have enough gas to try the trip to town more than once, so we either needed to make it or turn around right then before we burnt too much fuel.  We worked our way forward, thinking that we could always hole up in Taku Harbor if the inlet was kicking up too much (and maybe the State Park cabin there would be unoccupied).  Amazingly, the seas began to lay day at Grave Point and continued to lay down all the way to Point Arden, where it turned and came on our stern into the channel.  What a relief!