draggonlaady

First stop this morning was Park Avenue Coffee for a mocha (for me), hot chocolate (for Bruce) and gooey butter cake (for both of us). Well, actually, I guess first stop was the Unique Thrift Store on the way to Park Avenue, to pick up a couple wind breakers, because the weather has been rather less balmy than was predicted when we were packing. THEN on to enjoy the delicious gooey-ness. And delicious it was.

After breakfast, we took the train to the Science Center and Planetarium. We caught a Planetarium show about Edwin Hubble and the Hubble Telescope, then wandered through the rest of the planetarium and science center looking at the exhibits. Lots of interactive stuff; this place would be a paradise for kids interested in learning. I was sad that we missed the "Born to be Wild" Imax show. They kicked us out at 4:30 when they closed... time flies when you're on vacation.

We caught the train back to town for dinner at  Bailey's Range - apparently, Mr. Bailey has our number. This restaurant is owned by the same guy that runs the Chocolate Bar and Rooster. We definitely gave a disproportionate amount of our spending this week to him! I guess I am okay with supporting him though; the food at all 3 places was very enjoyable, and I was sorely tempted to order the "LGBT" burger (see menu) just on principle. In the end though, I was unable to resist the call of the ABC. Lucky had the American, because hey-mac&cheese! We also got billy goat chips, which are a locally-made potato chip with Parmesan cheese, and cheese paddles, which are Mozarella sticks on growth hormones and steroids. Seriously, the order is 2 sticks, which are probably called paddles because they're nearly large enough to row a boat with. We barely finished 1 of them between the 2 of us. Bring friends if you decide to go for these, you'll need the help! Milkshakes were delicious - salted caramel for Bruce, chocolate and salted caramel for me. Really, there was so much promising stuff on this menu that we had trouble choosing. I am also firmly in favor now of apples on burgers!

After dinner, we walked over to St. Louis' City Museum. The Museum is usually only open until 5, but stays up until midnight on Friday. We did the aquarium first - a very cool space with lots of interesting animals and information, but I think some of the tanks could have been better set up, both for visibility and for space for the inhabitants. The gennets were only visible via mirror, because the cage was so high that you couldn't see directly into it. Speaking of gennets - this aquarium had a LOT of land animals for an aquarium... Not that that's a problem, really, but I was rather surprised by the number of snakes and etc. We got pictures to make kresentiam jealous of the coatimundi cage. The kinkajou and sloth were adorable, and since we didn't get to see those at the zoo, it was nice to see them here. There were many warnings on various enclosures about inappropriate pets; as with the St. Louis children's zoo, a lot of these animals were released by private owners when they became too large or complicated to keep.
Then we left the aquarium for the Museum proper. We headed up to the roof, which is an open-air space of slides and crazy metal structures to climb and explore. There is a school bus driving off the side of the roof, and a giant preying mantis statue as well as a ferris wheel (because just being on the roof of an 11 story building isn't high enough!). There are stairs to get to most places, but not all - there are are metal frames for scaling up to everywhere, and we did a lot of climbing throughout the evening. The indoors of the Museum had almost nothing you'd typically associate with a museum. There was one hall of skeletons and diagrams, and a bunch of architectural examples and statuary. Then there was a hall of old arcade and fair-way stuff, which was pretty cool. The rest of the museum is basically the best jungle gym ever. There is a giant habitrail in the ceiling, a twisty tree house to climb, tunnels and caves with hidey-holes and crawl spaces with grotesques carved into the walls and sometimes actually forming tunnels, so that you crawl down the throat of a dragon. We spent a couple hours playing in the caves and then took a break for dessert.

Back to Gelato Tavolini, which is a conveniently short walk from the museum. Bruce had the butterscotch pecan this time, and I went for coconut and chocolate again. The chocolate was noticeably more bitter this time, so there is apparently some variation between batches.

After gelato, we headed back to the City Museum for "lights out"; at 10 PM on Friday, they turn all the lights out and let people play in the dark for 2 hours. This made a disappointingly small difference in the caves, but the rest of the place was made more fun by the additional challenge to exploration. We stayed until closing; crawling and climbing and shuffling through small spaces. A really entertaining full body work out.

We caught the last bus home, always a concerning situation of "hope we don't miss it!" Bitchy bus driver was driving again - she was letting people on the bus this time, but standing in the aisle talking on her cell phone again the whole time, except when she was arguing with riders. Couldn't even bother to hang up her phone to talk to riders! Bruce was approached by a guy while digging through his satchel for his bus pass - guy shoved a couple transfer forms into his hands and said he could get free rides using them. Bitch driver yelled out the door at Bruce "you can't use those! You shouldn't have taken them!" And then goes back to complaining loudly into her phone. After we were on and seated, a guy tried to board with a pass from the train and she told him he couldn't because it was the wrong pass (weirdly, if you buy a one-way pass, you cannot use it on the bus, but if you buy a two-hour pass, <i>for the same cost</i>, you can - but nowhere that we could find is that posted; we got caught by it on our way to Aftershocks last week), and he didn't have cash. So after several minutes of her refusing to let him on the bus (remember, this is the last bus of the night - he can't just go buy a new pass and catch the next one), Bruce got up and handed him cash to buy a ticket. At which bitch driver tells the guy he can get on and give Bruce his money back, because "he don't need to be in our business"... the same business she'd been loudly arguing in the aisle where every rider on the bus could hear it, as well as whoever the hell was on the other end of her cell phone that she STILL had not hung up.

I guess 2 rude people in the entire time were were there isn't bad, but given how nice everybody else we met/talked to was, it's a sharp contrast to deal with people like her and the Millennium shuttle driver.

Oh, my feet! I think I may have blisters...quite the pair we are, because Bruce has blisters from the other day already. When we headed out this morning, we walked to the bus stop about half a mile from the hotel; I made a poor shoe choice today, and my feet were already starting to regret it... we eventually found cushion inserts for me, but it's been a pretty mincy day for me.

First stop was a fabric store (yeah, we pick exciting vacation destinations!) to look for cloth for costumes for a party we're going to this weekend. From there, we headed downtown. We had the basic idea of where we were heading, but we got a little uncertain when we transferred from the train to the bus, because there were 2 buses with the same number. So Bruce asked for directions to Pappy's... from a guy in a Rib Shack shirt. And then belatedly realized what he'd done when the guy gave him a sort of sour look before busting out laughing. Turns out that Rib Shack guy was just let go from Pappy's a few weeks ago, and Rib Shack is a new job for him. Social graces, we haz dem! Anyway, he was getting on the same bus we needed anyway, so when it was our stop, he told us so. Pappy's Smokehouse was great. We had pulled pork and beef brisket sandwiches, both of which were delicious. Sweet potato fries, deep fried corn on the cob, and baked beans... the fries were wonderful, the corn was good but not significantly different than roasted corn on the cob, and the baked beans were apparently really good - I don't like beans, but I didn't hate these :). We got to talking to one of the servers (the servers were all friendly and high-energy, a fun bunch to watch work), and he was disappointed in us for not having the ribs; so disappointed, apparently, that he couldn't let it stand. He ran off to the kitchen and came back with a rib for each of us. First bite elicited a "daaaaamn, that's good ribs!" from me, and "that may be the best rib I've ever eaten" from Bruce. Seriously, any of you that like ribs and are in the area, make it a point to have the ribs there. And the sweet potato fries. Fabulous.

From there, we walked the rest of the way downtown, after being assured it was just a short way by one of the Pappy's servers... and if we'd been in comfy shoes and not already blistered, it wouldn't have been a problem. As is, I needed pretty frequent breaks on the way. We stopped and talked to a really nice lady at one of the bus stops... she claimed to be 59 and have grandkids, but looked like she was in her late 30s. Super nice lady, willing to field random questions from total strangers. We eventually ended up at the bus transfer station downtown, where we caught the Downtown Trolley. Kind of a zippy little bus that makes a figure eight run through downtown; we didn't get off anywhere, just looked around and made plans for the rest of the week.

When we got back to the transfer station, we switched to a bus to take us off to a different corner of town for dessert at Crown Candy Kitchen. Our waitress was super chipper and helpful (Bruce said that if he was still managing a restaurant, he'd be trying to steal her) and the chocolate ice cream was an incredibly good bittersweet (I lack the proper words to express for you how good this is - just plan on trying it if you are ever in this state, ok?). Trevor had black cherry ice cream, which he says was quite good, though not as much better than its counterparts at other ice cream places than the chocolate was. We picked up some chocolates to go and will be enjoying those later....

We also did some non-exciting drug store shopping for mundane things like hand lotion, but I figured you guys didn't really need details of Walgreen's and Scnuck's. And now, some reading and then some sleeping.

Travel to St. Louis was pretty smooth, unlike some prior flights I've ranted about. Yay! We arrived safely Friday night.

Unfortunately, we were immediately unimpressed with our hotel of destination.... we found the hotel shuttle waiting area, and after a bit of time a van prominently labelled "Millenium Hotel" drove up. And gave no indication of stopping. We stepped up and waved to get the driver's attention, and he stopped in the lane of traffic instead of pulling over. The window rolled down (and a cloud of smoke wafted out), and he informed us that he was not there to collect hotel patrons (read patrons with a sneer, and the whole statement with a put-upon tone), but if we really wanted, he could call the hotel and ask for a VIP pass to transport us to the hotel. The guy was seriously so rude about the whole thing that the woman on the sidewalk behind us, with whom we'd had no prior interaction, commented to us about his attitude and behavior.
We ended up slogging our luggage back across the terminal and catching the metro train downtown, then hiking the 3 blocks from the station to the hotel, because the Millenium doesn't run airport shuttles for mere patrons. I dunno who the Hell they think keeps them in business, but apparently treating those damn patrons like they're welcome doesn't enter the plan. They also don't believe in Wi-Fi in rooms (though there is Wi-Fi in the lobby), and while you can get internet access in the rooms by good old fashioned ethernet plug-in, they charge for it. There are 30 floors and they are hosting conferences, but there are only 3 elevators - it was faster to climb the 10 flights of stairs to my room from the lower lobby than to wait in line with the 200 other conference attendees for a lift.

So the prompter for this trip was a continuing education conference for me, which is how I spent most of Saturday. Bruce apparently met up in the elevators with another attendee's husband who was at loose ends, and the two of them wandered off to Hooters while we boring wives got educated.

We haven't done much exploration of town yet, but one thing I was unable to avoid noticing was the stench in the area where we were - standing on the sidewalk in front of the hotel, there was a strong and obvious reek of sewer, mixed with natural gas, and overlaid with diesel exhaust fumes. Stomach churning. I'm hoping that is not common throughout town.

Saturday night, Bruce and I returned to the metro to travel across town to a bar we'd been directed to, and tried the toasted ravioli, which is apparently a St. Louis thing... a St. Louis thing that Bruce is totally welcome to make me for dinner any time he feels like it, yum! We stopped by Hooters for dessert on the way back to the 'tel, because I had complained to him that he was supposed to take me with him when he went places I'd never been before. It was about what I expected; a sports-themed place with cute serving staff wearing tight shorts. The cake was good but not spectacular, and came in large servings.

Today I was once again conferencing most of the day, which left Bruce to pack up all our stuff and get us checked out of the room. At the end of the lectures, we hiked back to the metro station and caught the train back to the airport, where we caught the hotel shuttle to the hotel where we will be staying the rest of the week. This hotel is considerably lower-cost than the Millenium, but so far Homestead is kicking Millenium's ass in customer service. The shuttle driver was super friendly and helped carry our bags in to check in; the Wi-Fi is free and easily accessed; the building looks a bit older and less spiffy but the rooms have kitchenettes and we're on the ground floor, so no elevator lines.

Anyway, future updates will be more food and vacation/touristy stuff oriented.... we are considering heading to the Chocolate Bar for dinner tonight.

Maybe...
Got a call from a guy at Berry Co wanting to verify my ad in their yellow pages for 2012. HA!
So first thing, he called me, yeah? But then he starts asking me what region I am and what book... and then spends several minutes getting the correct info on the computer. NOT inspiring confidence that he knows what's going on with my account.
When he asks about the ad, I tell him (politely) that I am not interested in doing business with the Berry Company.
He asks why.
I ask if he wants the long story or the short version. He says go for the long one. So I start clear back at last January and go through the whole series of cock-ups. He apologizes several times, and offers to do a bigger ad at half the price. I repeat that I am not interested in doing business with the Berry Company. At all. No deal he will offer me is going to be good enough to make me want to deal with the fantastically poor customer service and utterly chaotic account handling. No.
So he switched on a recorder and had me state that I do not want any paid advertising through the Berry Company. At all.

In theory, this should be the end of this. Here's hoping. :)

We have a blood machine that runs chemistry analysis from little pre-packed rotors. We have had a bunch of issues with the machine and the rotors recently, so we have a pile of credits on our account.
Knowing we had credits on our account, we ordered rotors directly from the manufacturer instead of our usual distributor.
When I got the bill, the rotors were not credited.
So I called and spoke to the lady who initially took the order, and asked for them to be credited towards the bill. I was informed that credits can only be applied at the time of the order. I asked why, then, were we not asked if we wanted our credits to be applied, since we were unaware that we had to specifically ask for this. I got a lovely little run around about how we're supposed to get a form to turn back in for redeeming the rotors, and she doesn't know why I haven't gotten that, but that she has asked before and doesn't think she can credit things once the order has been processed.
I told her that I know she doesn't make these policies, but she might want to pass on to whoever actually has some power that this is, from a customer's point of view, crap. We should not have to jump through a bunch of invisible hoops that were never explained to us in order to get our credits applied to our account. And frankly, the only reason we ordered from them in the first place is because we knew we had these credits--we normally order from a distributor who gives us a better price.
She says she'll look into seeing if she can credit them to us. I have doubts that it will happen. I am, shall we say, displeased.

Continues its policy of ignoring its customers. I have not received an answer to the email I sent on the 30th, nor the one I sent yesterday morning asking why I'd not received a response. I continue my policy of being disgusted by their utter fail at customer service.

so much for that.

Got June phone bill today, guess what's still on it? *headdesk*

So I called CenturyLink, to complain about their subcontractor. Talked to a "specialist" there, who is filing a dispute on the charges. Will see how that goes. I also told both the customer service guy and the specialist that their subcontractor is so bad that if there were ANY OTHER phone company available in this area, I would switch, despite the fact that everyone I've ever talked to at CenturyLink has been polite and helpful, and that I have no complaints about their service.

So after I was safely returned to the lower 48, I called Alaska Airlines' customer service number to see if they would reimburse me for the leg of the flight up which didn't happen.

I was informed that because they didn't actually cancel the flight (just, you know, decided not to go to where I'd paid them to take me), they couldn't reimburse me anything. It was entirely my problem that I'd decided to leave the plane and pay those other people to get me where I had already paid Alaska Airlines to take me. After all, they'd offered to put me up in a hotel room in Juneau and get me there another day later.
Never mind that reimbursing me for the charter boat would have been a HELL of a lot less expensive than paying for a hotel room, AND would have made a customer hugely happier, thus increasing the chance of repeat business. No, no, I'm just SOL.

What they can do though, is give me a $250 discount coupon for my next flight.

When I specifically told the woman that I am NOT flying on Alaska Airlines again, she helpfully told me that the discount coupon is good for a whole year. I repeated that there is absolutely no chance of my flying on this airline again within that time frame, and thus this is not in any way a helpful offer. She then offered me frequent flyer miles instead.

I repeated (again. re-repeated?) that since I am so unhappy with their service that I won't be flying their airline again, so frequent flyer miles are not of use to me EITHER. What I want, and what might make me less wroth with AA customer service, is reimbursement for the leg of the trip that I paid for and which they did not deliver.

She transferred me to her supervisor.

Supervisor and I had EXACTLY the same conversation. At the end of that, she started over, but increased the offer to $350 discount. Yeah, that's nice, you can make it $3000, and it doesn't change the fact that I will not be flying Alaska Airlines within the next year and therefore it is nothing but salting the wound. She then falls back on frequent flyer miles, upping that offer to 14,000 miles. Now, to add to the fun here, this whole thing has taken so long that clients have arrived (you'd think 20 minutes would be enough, but apparently not), so I'm docking tails on a litter of puppies while talking to Supervisor. I finally get fed up enough that I give up. I accepted the frequent flyer miles (after Supervisor finally thinks to tell me that they can be used on other airlines), and hang up.

So. I remain un-mollified by Alaska Airlines' customer service.

Now, I loved the time I spent in Alaska, but unfortunately Alaska Airlines is the only airline that flies there. If I go back, I believe that I will take the ferry.

It occurs to me suddenly that I've been busy all week, and have not remembered to call the Berry Company. I have, of course, NOT gotten a call back from them. Bastards.
So I called back. No surprise that they are not open on Saturday, I suppose. I am, however, surprised that they apparently turn off their entire fucking phone system other than an automated answer giving their business hours. No option for leaving a message, no option for "if you know the extension you need, please dial it now". Just "We're not here. Call back at a reasonable time, you dumb schmuck." (I may be paraphrasing slightly there.)

Right then. We'll start with getting the rest of the way there. Last I related I was stuck in SeaTac after Alaska Airlines' epic fail and 12 hour delay in getting me to Seattle. Seriously; I should have just driven.
Anyway. Up bright and early again at 4 AM the next morning, to catch yet another 6 AM flight. No trouble of note with SeaTac security, just the usual rigamarole. On the plane and off we go. At Ketchikan, we have an hour wait. I ask the flight attendant if it's okay to go into the terminal to get a mocha. She says that shouldn't be a problem. She is wrong.
Ketchikan is small enough that as soon as you get off the plane, you're considered outside of security. Seriously, you can't even turn back around at the bottom of the stairs (yeah, stairs to the tarmac, no bridge) and go back up, they freak out about it. So I go into the terminal building, walk through the downstairs debarking area, buy a mocha, and head upstairs, where I'm immediately met with the friendly face of the TSA. I talk to the security guy at the start of the line for a few minutes, explaining why I'm out and will need to go back in. Then I chill my heels and read and drink my mocha for half an hour or so.
Now the fun really starts, as I go back through security. I'm lucky number whatthefuckever and am chosen for "enhanced screening" (Bruce asks why they can't find a name that's less obviously reminiscent of "enhanced interrogation"). So I get the lovely pat-down, whoo. And the nitrate test. Which comes up positive. Joy.
So I get pulled into a "private screening room" where they pat me down AGAIN. They bring in my bag, and someone else's too, just for good measure? Hah. First thing out of my mouth is "I don't know what's in the black bag, and it isn't mine." I'm sure that's not suspicious at all, yeah? Luckily there was someone outside loudly wondering what became of her computer. Comforting revelation 1: they can't even keep track of what luggage came with their suspect!
So they run the nitrate test AGAIN and AGAIN and of course it comes up positive both times. I get grilled on where I've been (SeaTac airport, their security thought I was fine, since which I've been on that plane sitting right there that is getting ready to leave, and on which I'd like to be again now, please) and then in YOUR OWN AIRPORT. No, I haven't been anywhere else. No I haven't been playing with explosives. Now we get comforting revelation 2: TSA woman tells me that the nitrate scanner picks up all kinds of extraneous shit, like dust from construction sites, and guess what? They're doing construction downstairs in THIS SAME FUCKING BUILDING. So best I can figure, I tested positive on this test because of the fucking airport. How safe does that make you all feel? Because it doesn't make me feel safer, just harassed and cranky. They go through all the stuff in my bag, and can't find anything suspicious.
Eventually, the 2 women who can't figure out what to do with someone who is obviously carrying nothing threatening decide to ask their supervisor. Who turns out to be the TSA bloke I chatted with at the gate while drinking coffee. He looks in, sees me, says "She's been sitting here reading for 45 minutes. Let her get on her damn plane," and walks out. Seriously, I swear he said "damn", I'm not making that up. I think he was fed up with the nitrate BS too, and it makes me wonder how many times they've dragged someone though this crap.
Can't find much about these nitrate sensors to link for you, unfortunately. Just vague comments here and there, about how sensitive they are. Sensitive enough, for example, to trigger if you've recently taken medication with nitroglycerin; guess heart disease makes you a potential threat. Whoot! High sensitivity and low specificity while looking for a VERY small percentage in a huge sample size--how many false positives do we want to wade through here? There is, of course, not a single mention of any actual bomber ever being discovered via this scanner.

So. Back on the plane. And off we go again. To Wrangell. Where we are grounded for a mechanical. Seriously, Alaska Airlines? 2 mechanicals in 2 days on what was supposed to be 1 flight? FUCK. This is NOT impressing me with your reliability. So there's no mechanic in Wrangell, of course. 45 minutes later, they've rounded up a mechanic, who pokes about at the leaking hydraulic for another 45 minutes before declaring he needs parts not available in Wrangell. They'll be brought in on the afternoon flight south from Juneau, 5 hours from now. We're told that when they get the plane going, they'll be skipping Petersburg (where I'm supposed to deplane for real) and going straight to Juneau. They offer to put us up in hotels there and fly us back to Petersburg the next day on the afternoon flight, thus getting me to my destination a full 48 hours late. If that's not acceptable, we can jump plane now, and catch charter boats to the other island. Which is great, but will land us on the south end of the island; Petersburg is at the north end. Oh, and since the flight is not officially cancelled, Alaska Airlines won't be paying for any of it if we leave. We can wait and see if they officially cancel the flight at some point, after which Alaska Airlines might pay for other transportation, but might not, since they already offered hotel rooms, etc.
"Fuck that noise" is the general consensus of about 30 people on the plane, myself included. We leave en masse, pile into 2 taxi-vans to the marina, then onto 2 charter boats to Banana Point. From there we catch vans up the island to Petersburg. The charter boat is the first leg of this entire trip that's actually gone smoothly, and I wasn't even supposed to be on it! But birds and seals and water and open air are good for my head and for calming the rage. Pigeon guillemots and marbled murrelets, loons and gulls. Guillemots are pretty cool looking birds, and murrelets are just darn cute. (Have I mentioned that I bought a new camera just prior to this trip?)

So apparently this is a not unusual thing, as the charter boat crews seem well versed with the "pick people up from the airport" routine. Again, not impressed with the reliability of the airline!

Saw several very fat black tailed deer, a Stellar jay, and a 3-toed sap sucker on the drive up the island. Also several smaller song birds, unidentified. Sorry, winnett. No pictures of those; somehow taking pictures through the window of a moving van didn't seem to work well.

On arriving in Petersburg, I call Toni again, and explain where I am and how I got there, and that I'm going to the airport to find out what I can do about getting my baggage at some point (recall that it spent the night in Juneau while I was in SeaTac). She says she'll get in touch with Doug, the private pilot who will be flying me to the boat, and let him know I've managed to arrive. I get into the airport just as they officially announce the cancellation of the flight I was suppose to've been on. Which incites an immediate (and totally predictable) rush of people to the ticket/check-in desk, just about 45 seconds too soon for me to get there when they were empty. Gah. So I stand in line for 12 minutes. Yeah, I timed it. I was bored. And seriously annoyed at spending 12 minutes staring at the sign behind the counter, which read

Time is important to you, so it's important to us.
#1 in on-time flights, major North American Airlines 2010.

Oh, the joy that sign gave me. And by "joy", I mean "rage". FOURTY EIGHT HOURS LATE is very much not on-time, people. Bad enough that I'm "only" 22 hours late, and that by giving up on you and finding another way!

Ticket lady informs me that baggage is still in Juneau (not dreadfully surprising, I guess, since there's only 2 planes through Petersburg in a day, the one going north that's not happening today, and the one coming south that will bring the part for the broken plane sitting in Wrangell). She informs me that I can come pick it up at 2:30 this afternoon. I inform her that I have no intention of still being in Petersburg at 2:30 this afternoon, as I was supposed to be on a boat YESTERDAY, and there is right this minute a pilot waiting next door to get me to said boat. So in the only actual customer service moment that I receive the entire time, it's arranged that when my luggage gets to Petersburg, they'll have it flown out to me at the boat via private plane. Then she ruins any good feeling by telling me she can't reimburse anything for the part of the flight on which they didn't actually fly me, nor can she reimburse me for the charter boat, but she can give me 2000 free miles! Like I'm going to be booking a flight on your line anytime in the foreseeable future?! Whatever. I'll call customer service when I'm back home. I leave and go next door to catch the float plane to Kake and the Northern Song. Which flight goes quite nicely, with no mishaps (and no TSA!). We stop at the Kake airport to pick up someone going back to Petersburg, see 3 black bears grazing next to the runway, and then head out to the boat. I got no pictures of the bears; which is especially sucky because they're the only bears I saw the whole time. Home for the next week will be Northern Song.

I get passed over to the boat, meet the crew of the Northern Song (Cap'n Dennis, Mate Leanna, Chef Ocean), am immediately handed food and good humor, and just as we finish lunch the otter crew radios that they've "caught a big one!"

When I arrived, the otter crew had been out netting for a week already. The otter they caught as I arrived was otter #11. They were aiming for 30-33, and had 6 days left. They may have been a wee bit stressed. I was shuttled over to the hospital boat (Jerry O) to watch the fun.
Otter #11 was a young male, who really was a "big one". He weighed in at 101 pounds, and was almost exactly as long as the measuring tape. Basic procedure for otter trap/release, since I assume that you are mostly as ignorant as I was:
Set out nets in areas that otters frequent. They were using salmon gill nets.
When you catch an otter, pull the skiff up next to them, 2 people pull the otter, net and all, into the boat and stuff it into a plywood box with holes drilled along the top. One person uses a "stuff sack" to trap the otter's head in a corner of the box while the other person (or persons if there are more than 2 people in the skiff) work the net off the otter. That usually involves cutting the net, and hopefully not the otter. A "stuff sack" is a foam roll inside a duffel bag inside another duffel bag, and it takes on all the damage that your giant water weasel would like to dish out to its captors. The stuff sack is not expected to survive longer than this 2 week project!
Once the net is removed from the otter, the box is closed, and transported to the Jerry O.
Box and otter are then dropped in the water to float for 20-30 minutes while the otter calms down and vents any frustration it has on the Kong toy fastened inside the box.
When otter is calm, the box is lifted onto the Jerry O's deck, the otter is reintroduced to his favorite victim, the stuff sack, and while he's busily mauling that, a doctor jabs him in the rear with fentanyl and midazolam. Then the box is shut again.
Otter soaks up his drugs for about 10 minutes, then is lifted out and weighed. Drugs are touched up if necessary, since he was dosed by estimate based on how hard he was to get in the box in the first place...
Otter is moved to the surgery table, and a nasal oxygen tube placed. Blood, feces, and urine are collected, and milk if available. A premolar is extracted for aging,any wounds and scars are noted, girth, total length, tail length, paw size, and temperature are recorded. While doctor scrubs in, the otter is prepped for surgery.
Now, otters rely on their fur for thermoregulation in cold water; they don't have blubber. So no shaving. They kept the hair out of the surgery site by slicking it back with a mixture of iodine in sterile lube.
Doctor puts a radio transmitter into the abdomen (can't very well expect a water weasel to wear a collar). Bright colored tags are placed in each back flipper, and tissue samples taken from the piercings there.
Then the drugs are reversed, the otter is returned to the box, and the box is transported back out to where the otter was caught, where he's released.

Pictures of this whole process (though not posted in any particular order, as I was present for different stages on different days) are posted here.

Back to Northern Song for dinner (beef bourguignon, yum, and carrot cake with absolutely amazing lemon glazed icing). My bag had arrived while I was at the hospital boat, so I "moved in" to my bunk, and then I collapsed in exhaustion. So that's all you get for today, I'm tired of typing!