Outdoors & Recreation

A Happy Place

Story and Media by
Dana Jaworski
Media by
No items found.
Written by
Dana Jaworski

Thirty minutes from my childhood home in West Texas, and a half mile down a caliche road there is a small, red farmhouse. It was my great-grandmother’s house. Devoid of running hot water and cooled only by a swamp cooler on summer nights, the house left much to be desired. However, the love and deep peace I felt there made it special. 

Whether I was on the back porch listening to my Papa’s tall tales, swinging in the shade of the cistern, helping my Gran in her garden, or dove hunting with my daddy on the stock tank, this place still anchors me thirty years later. It is my “happy place.” 

Until a recent trip to a friend’s fish camp in Redoubt Bay, I didn’t believe another “happy place” could exist. It was on this trip that I learned it isn’t about the place at all, but more about the stripping away of distractions and a return to the essentials. 


My family of five caught a tender boat in Kenai and headed across Cook Inlet. With the sun on my face and a sea breeze in my hair, I quickly forgot about the responsibilities that remained at home. Six hours and a few ice deliveries later we were within radio range of the fish camp. The captain radioed our friends and learned that their boats were “dry” as it was low tide.

“No worries, we’ll take Sarah Jr.!” The captain remarked. 

Knowing that Sarah Jr. was the lake worthy skiff we rode in from dock to boat earlier, I was concerned when I looked out to nearly a half mile of open water and down at my three small children. Thankfully, Redoubt Bay was flat and calm as we approached the shore and awaiting four-wheelers at midnight. Our host and friend, Don, yelled, “Welcome to the West Side!”

We settled into a cabin, complete with solar-powered lighting, gravity-fed water, and a lovely outhouse aptly entitled, “Winnie the Pooh.” After our long journey we quickly fell into a sound sleep. 

The next morning dawned early and the fishing crew left around 6:00 am to fish for Chinook a few miles away at the mouth of a river. For those of us left behind at camp, the day included gardening, watering, four-wheeler maintenance, trash burning, tending the greenhouse, and beachcombing. Supper was a beachside hot-dog roast and concluded with a shower. 


Showers at fish camp are an event to be remembered. At the conclusion of every fish day, the fire in the shower house is stoked. An hour later, from the patriarch down, the entire camp takes their turn. The shower house is built around a circa 1950s wood burning stove with an attached water tank. The heat from the water heater and the moisture from the shower creates a sauna effect and resulted in a relaxing experience. At the end of this first day, as I cooled off from my “sauna shower” my gaze passed over a homemade sign that read, “The tide waits for no man.” This well-known adage conveys the very spirit of how time is viewed at fish camp. The process of showering takes hours, and a day’s schedule is built around the low and high tides. Time is no longer artificially based on the clock, but becomes real through the very elements of nature itself.


The next day, was an off day for fishing. A full breakfast was prepared including Swedish pancakes and homemade jam. It was during breakfast that we received a message on the phone. Across the inlet cell service is spotty, so our friends have set up an alarm that sounds when they have a signal. This indicates they can check their messages and hope to have enough signal to make a return call. This rudimentary communication system reminded me of the old party line at my Gran’s house. Four successive rings and we knew a call was coming through to us. A few days at fish camp without the distractions of social networking and texting allowed me to concentrate on the reality of relationships instead of the virtuality.

Breakfast and the accompanying conversation bled into the lunch hour. After “morning chores” Don remarked that he was going to take a nap. With a wink and a smile he said, “The real reason I love livin’ on the West Side is because you can nap without guilt.” 


After working a fourteen hour day on less than four hours of sleep the previous day, I had to agree with him. It is this reward of rest after working hard that makes rest so rejuvenating.

A few days later we were picked up by the tender and returned home. I am thankful for our time across the inlet in Redoubt Bay. Many dollars and a lot of time can be spent in planning the ideal get-away or exotic vacation, attempting to create a perfect “happy place.” I learned that “happy places” are found by returning to the essentials and those you love.

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A Happy Place

Outdoors & Recreation

Author

Dana Jaworski

Eight years ago, Dana Jaworski and her husband moved from West Texas to Anchor Point, Alaska. Dana is a graduate of Abilene Christian University with a degree in Political Science. She enjoys writing for the local paper and has been a frequent blog contributor to Word for Today, www.gsccwordfortoday.blogspot.com. She, her husband, and their three children enjoy clamming, gardening, fishing and the many outdoor activities of the Kenai Peninsula.

Thirty minutes from my childhood home in West Texas, and a half mile down a caliche road there is a small, red farmhouse. It was my great-grandmother’s house. Devoid of running hot water and cooled only by a swamp cooler on summer nights, the house left much to be desired. However, the love and deep peace I felt there made it special. 

Whether I was on the back porch listening to my Papa’s tall tales, swinging in the shade of the cistern, helping my Gran in her garden, or dove hunting with my daddy on the stock tank, this place still anchors me thirty years later. It is my “happy place.” 

Until a recent trip to a friend’s fish camp in Redoubt Bay, I didn’t believe another “happy place” could exist. It was on this trip that I learned it isn’t about the place at all, but more about the stripping away of distractions and a return to the essentials. 


My family of five caught a tender boat in Kenai and headed across Cook Inlet. With the sun on my face and a sea breeze in my hair, I quickly forgot about the responsibilities that remained at home. Six hours and a few ice deliveries later we were within radio range of the fish camp. The captain radioed our friends and learned that their boats were “dry” as it was low tide.

“No worries, we’ll take Sarah Jr.!” The captain remarked. 

Knowing that Sarah Jr. was the lake worthy skiff we rode in from dock to boat earlier, I was concerned when I looked out to nearly a half mile of open water and down at my three small children. Thankfully, Redoubt Bay was flat and calm as we approached the shore and awaiting four-wheelers at midnight. Our host and friend, Don, yelled, “Welcome to the West Side!”

We settled into a cabin, complete with solar-powered lighting, gravity-fed water, and a lovely outhouse aptly entitled, “Winnie the Pooh.” After our long journey we quickly fell into a sound sleep. 

The next morning dawned early and the fishing crew left around 6:00 am to fish for Chinook a few miles away at the mouth of a river. For those of us left behind at camp, the day included gardening, watering, four-wheeler maintenance, trash burning, tending the greenhouse, and beachcombing. Supper was a beachside hot-dog roast and concluded with a shower. 


Showers at fish camp are an event to be remembered. At the conclusion of every fish day, the fire in the shower house is stoked. An hour later, from the patriarch down, the entire camp takes their turn. The shower house is built around a circa 1950s wood burning stove with an attached water tank. The heat from the water heater and the moisture from the shower creates a sauna effect and resulted in a relaxing experience. At the end of this first day, as I cooled off from my “sauna shower” my gaze passed over a homemade sign that read, “The tide waits for no man.” This well-known adage conveys the very spirit of how time is viewed at fish camp. The process of showering takes hours, and a day’s schedule is built around the low and high tides. Time is no longer artificially based on the clock, but becomes real through the very elements of nature itself.


The next day, was an off day for fishing. A full breakfast was prepared including Swedish pancakes and homemade jam. It was during breakfast that we received a message on the phone. Across the inlet cell service is spotty, so our friends have set up an alarm that sounds when they have a signal. This indicates they can check their messages and hope to have enough signal to make a return call. This rudimentary communication system reminded me of the old party line at my Gran’s house. Four successive rings and we knew a call was coming through to us. A few days at fish camp without the distractions of social networking and texting allowed me to concentrate on the reality of relationships instead of the virtuality.

Breakfast and the accompanying conversation bled into the lunch hour. After “morning chores” Don remarked that he was going to take a nap. With a wink and a smile he said, “The real reason I love livin’ on the West Side is because you can nap without guilt.” 


After working a fourteen hour day on less than four hours of sleep the previous day, I had to agree with him. It is this reward of rest after working hard that makes rest so rejuvenating.

A few days later we were picked up by the tender and returned home. I am thankful for our time across the inlet in Redoubt Bay. Many dollars and a lot of time can be spent in planning the ideal get-away or exotic vacation, attempting to create a perfect “happy place.” I learned that “happy places” are found by returning to the essentials and those you love.

No items found.

Author

Dana Jaworski

Eight years ago, Dana Jaworski and her husband moved from West Texas to Anchor Point, Alaska. Dana is a graduate of Abilene Christian University with a degree in Political Science. She enjoys writing for the local paper and has been a frequent blog contributor to Word for Today, www.gsccwordfortoday.blogspot.com. She, her husband, and their three children enjoy clamming, gardening, fishing and the many outdoor activities of the Kenai Peninsula.

Author & Media

Dana Jaworski

No items found.

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