As he stood on the long dock lined with the largest boats he had ever seen, he pondered the whole path his life had taken. How was it the he had ended up on a reality show? He majored in filmography and had imagined traveling to foreign countries and filming vignettes that would make a difference in the world. Instead, he was freezing on a dock in the middle of no-where Dutch Harbor in Alaska. The landscape was bleak. Everything was a murky shade of brown or gray. There seemed to be rusting hunks of metal and scraps of machinery everywhere you looked. The worst of it was that even the bald eagle took on a bleak image, as the birds were everywhere, tearing into the garbage that littered the landscape.
Ironically, the town seemed to have an equal number of churches and bars. There was one, very large general store that catered to the fisherman, selling everything in large quantities and at great expense. There was one airport, if it could even be called that. There was nothing remotely close to an airliner landing here. Apparently less than 30,000 people travelled through this airport in a yearly basis. Not exactly a hub of activity compared to the lower 48.
On his back was a duffle filled with a minimal amount of clothing and meager personal possessions that would somehow, hopefully, help his homesickness abate. In his hands were heavy bags and containers with camera equipment - batteries, lenses, and a multitude of high-tech gadgets he would soon be placing on the deck of one of the most famous crab fishing boats in the world. The boat was already outfitted with extensive filming equipment from its 9 year run on the show Deadliest Catch. He had his personal filming equipment and some new equipment to place to get new shots. The new and innovative clips were what kept this show in production for a decade. Imagine, a whole reality show about crab fishing?! His thoughts were overtaken with advice about working with the hardened fisherman. This thinking almost trumped the importance of thinking about how he was going to get the best and most creative shots. In fact, at the meeting where the newbies found out just what they were getting into as cameramen on the Deadliest Catch, the focus was way more on dealing with personalities and staying alive than anything connected to filming.
If anything, he felt fortunate to be assigned to the Time Bandit. The captain of the Wizard was notoriously difficult to get along with and hard on any new members of the team on his boat. The captain of the Northwestern seemed okay, if not a bit moody. The Saga seemed like a giant floating frat party with way too much drama. He supposed the Seabrook would have been okay, but the captain on the Maverick was just plain scary as hell! The Time Bandit seemed to get business done, but had fun doing it. Everyone seemed to get along as a family and loved to play jokes. He was already gearing up to be the target of more than one practical joke himself.
"Are you coming or not?" shouted a gravelly voice over the loud speaker. Apparently, he had stood pondering the situation he was in for more time than he should have. It was now or never, he thought as he approached the deck.
"Hey, glad you could join us," shouted a relatively slight man approaching the deck. As he moved closer, he realized this was Scott, the son of one of the captains. It was a good thing he had paid attention to the video he had been given to learn about the boat he would be on. Hopefully he got a good read on their personalities.
"Thanks, man," he said as Scott helped to hoist the large protective bags over the side of the ship. He hoped he was in shape enough for this, he thought as he handed over his personal bag and leapt from the dock, over the rail, and onto the Time Bandit. Should he admit he had never been on a boat this size or stayed on one longer than a few hours? It would probably be a good idea to keep this too himself, even though seasickness would give this away without saying a word to his hosts.
"Head through that door to go up to the cabin before we stow your bags in your bunk. The captain will one to lay down the law before we ship out," Scott advised.
It was an ominous sign that the door to the wheelhouse was painted flat black. Now that he thought about it, the skull and crossbones that adorned the front of the boat and was the Time Bandit's logo may be foreshadowing his fate. He went through the door and up the stairs to where the two captains and owners of the boat were talking strategy for placing crab pots for the best yield. They had a large map rolled out and were making marks and looking at marks.
"Hey, guys! I'm Jeff. Glad to be joining you as the new cameraman for this season," he said with as much confidence and firmness as he could muster.
"I have three rules on my boat," began the captain and owner with a leather jacket with U.S.A. embroidered across the back. His voice was gravelly from way too many packs of cigarette, but he was said to be the good natured joke steer of the fleet. He did not look or sound it as he stood tall and looked Jeff directly in the eye. "One, stay where you're told. Two, do what you're told. Three, do it when you're told to. If you follow these simple rules, you may just return to dry land alive."
Well if that didn't say it all...