KASILOF RIVER -- The Kasilof beach is cool and calm at 10 a.m. on Monday as Yolanda Thomas emerges from her family-sized tent for a morning of dipnetting on the shore of the Kasilof River.
Still fighting fatigue from a late night of dipnetting with a few other hardy souls here on the southern bank of the Kasilof River's salmon-rich mouth, the 50-year-old from Anchorage finds herself grabbing a 10-foot dip net for another day of harvesting red salmon.
For the 15th straight morning, gulls are her wake-up call.
"I'm taking on the 'beach bum' mentality," says Thomas as she hoists a long dipnet rod onto her shoulder.
With her husband, Barry, expected to arrive in a few days, she enjoys the solitude that comes with sleeping on an air mattress, stoking her own fires, cleaning her own fish and cooking for one. She took 30 days off work to get away from city life and dipnet daily so her family of six will have plenty of reds to eat.
"You have to like yourself to do something like this," said the teacher's aide at Wendler Middle School, "because you're with yourself a lot."
The arms of the tiny-framed Thomas are toned after working outside for hours at a time since this 24-hour personal-use fishery, offered to Alaska residents only, opened on June 25. She plans to camp here until she harvests her limit -- 25 salmon for head of household and 10 salmon for each additional household member.
"I'm living in the water," she said.
Thomas' most productive work day was Sunday. Though it took 18 hours, she netted 18 reds. Considering how slow the dipnetting had been since she started on June 30, she said 18 was a good day's work.
"Yolanda's doing a fish clinic down there," joked Ed Mason, a retired sergeant major in the Army National Guard who netted two reds in four days.
Every few days, Lori Garreau, who runs Crooked Creek RV Park and Guide Service along the Kasilof River, checks in with Thomas to see if she needs more supplies -- or a warm bath.
"She'll come here and I'll say, 'You stink! Come take a shower,' " Thomas laughed.
Garreau and Thomas, both Wendler teachers, dipnetted until 2 a.m. Monday. Garreau didn't net one red -- the first time she's ever gotten skunked dipnetting.
She did, however, net a bright chrome king salmon -- a good sign Kasilof River's second run of kings are making their way upstream -- but returned it. Dippers may only retain red salmon.
Signs that dippers should see more reds this weekend:
• The Alaska Department of Fish and Game issued an emergency order to expand the Kasilof River dipnetting area from the Cook Inlet to the Sterling Highway bridge, starting this morning at 12:01 a.m.
• The Kasilof River's sonar count estimated more than 9,200 reds stormed upstream Monday.
"People take (sonar counts) as the gospel," Garreau said. "But who knows if it's true. I want to know where those fish were (Sunday).
"I certainly didn't see many people catching fish."
Thomas, though, was slowly but surely pulling them onto the beach.
"She's catching fish when nobody else is," said dipper Mark Shideler.
Thomas has a long way to go if she plans to take her limit back to Anchorage. She and her husband have three sons and one daughter, giving them the option to harvest 75 reds.
The idea to harvest so many fish came two years ago when medical bills started piling up at home, Thomas said.
"Food was getting scarce," she said. "But then I thought, 'What if I caught our food?' So I figured, 'I can do this!' "
'MEAT FISHING'
Shideler, a military psychiatrist in Anchorage, had less than a dozen red salmon to clean around 9 a.m. Monday.
With his buddy, Bryan Wachter, still crashed out in their tent, Shideler cleaned despite little sleep.
"I'm an amateur at this," Shideler said as he impaled a sockeye's head on a nail attached to his fillet table. "So having fish to clean is cause to celebrate."
They arrived here late Sunday and dipnetted through the night. Shideler took a week off work to spend a portion of it harvesting fish for his freezer.
"This is meat fishing," the 35-year-old said.
Shideler was advised to fish four hours after high tide, but other dippers said Monday it doesn't matter what time of day you fish.
"When they're here, you get 'em," said Tony Lopez, who lives on Coho Loop Road, a few miles from the mouth.
To access the mouth, drive north on Coho Loop Road until it turns into dirt. The dirt road leads to the Cook Inlet beach, which only four-wheel-drive vehicles can negotiate.
When the sky is clear, views from here across the Inlet are spectacular as the snow-covered 10,197-foot Redoubt volcano rises in the distance.
"I love this place," Thomas said. "I see the sunrise and sunset almost every night. We (dippers) do this to have peace in our lives."
'IT WAS REALLY COLD'
Dippers like 12-year-old Molly Bowen do it for the meat -- and chills.
"I went in wet," said the Homer resident, who on Sunday scooped reds without wearing neoprene waders.
Much to mom's amazement, Molly lasted two hours in the water before retreating for the truck to turn the heater on full blast.
"I always wanted to go in wet and see how cold it would be," Bowen said.
And what did she discover?
"It was really, really cold," she laughed.
Bill Stem of Kasilof dipnets because he has eight kids and 18 grandchildren who love eating smoked salmon, including Selena, his 9-year-old daughter who fed gulls with hot dogs.
"My kids go through a one-pound baggie of smoked salmon a day," Stearn said. "I gotta holler at 'em, 'Hey, we've got winter to think about.' "
But all Stem, 50, wanted to think about Monday was how he enjoys wading in the slow current of the Kasilof River, puffing Midnight Specials and knowing he provides for his family despite health problems that forced him into early retirement.
"When I catch my limit, it's food for the winter," he said. "And it's something that even I can do."
Find Kevin Klott online at adn.com/contact/kklott or call 257-4335.
