Aki and I stand on the Sheep Creek delta looking down channel where the great blue herons usually fish. Today a line of men has taken their place, each man uses spin tackle to fish for silver salmon. I’m struck with how much better equipped for this weather herons are than men, who must wrap themselves head to toe in miracle fibers.

We walk down a long arc of gravel between the ocean and Fish Creek, near deafened by gull complaints. Hundred of the pump birds scream at each other. A fisherman, head and face covered by a black balaclava, body encased in camouflage, drags a silver-bright silver salmon through their midst. He stomps his Extra Tuff boots across the creek, scattering gulls and spawning pink salmon.