It all starts in Kodiak, Alaska…

…where I hire on as cook and skiff pilot aboard LaMer, a 40’ steel-hulled salmon seiner based in Dog Harbor. After stowing 7 shopping carts full of provisions in every nook and cranny of the cabin, my immediate problem is the barely-working diesel stove on which I’m supposed to prepare meals.

Bob Bowser is the captain and owner of the boat. He’s a big guy, a welder and mechanic by trade down in the lower 48, and from the shopping list he’d given me, it’s clear that he is particular about what he eats. Considering all that, I find it strange when he tells me the stove hasn’t worked in a while, has no idea what’s wrong with it, and has no suggestions on how to fix it. Hah! So just what the heck am I supposed to do? I know nothing about being a cook, I have never worked on a fishing boat, and about piloting a 400 horsepower skiff, I have absolutely no clue whatsoever.

Well… There are two things that I do know, absolutely and for certain: One: tomorrow morning we are heading out for maybe three weeks or more. Two: having heard that on the water, problems somehow end up conveniently falling overboard, the very last place I want to be, with my captain and crew wondering why they aren’t getting hot meals, is in the middle of the foggy, rainy, windy, and very cold north Pacific. I must - right away - figure out how to make sense of this danged diesel cooking contraption. Three! There are three things I know for absolutely certain.

Poking around, this stove doesn’t look or behave like any kitchen stove, camping stove, or anything else I’ve ever cooked on. It lights with a match, has a switch for a blower, belches out black smoke, and its oven won’t go past 200 degrees.

As I continue to explore, gradually, those characteristics start to ring familiar. Wait a second…. Yes! My old 1966 Volkswagen Squareback! This stove’s quirks are practically the same as those of the odd gasoline-fed air heater in that car. It sat on top of the gas tank, glowing a disconcerting cherry red, forcing its heated air into the passenger compartment with a vibrating drone. My salvation here in Dog Harbor just might be my experience working on that car’s insane buzz bomb heater back in Illinois.

So, I get to work: clean out the soot, adjust the fuel feed, discover a completely closed air shutter and set it open. Like magic, with the touch of a match, the lanky yellow flames that had been emitting wispy ribbons of black soot transform into crisp little, smokeless blue cones. The temperature shoots up and - thank God Almighty - this little iron stove cranks out the heat. From that day and throughout the entire season, it reliably yields a hot mess of baked salmon and halibut, casseroles, biscuits, pies, bread, and more.

We love transforming crudded-up cooking contraptions into the clean machines that everyone in your crew benefits from and enjoys using. Need a deep clean for a stove? Contact us to make an appointment.