Our Chief Engineer Joe Robinson, his wife Kristine and their son Max boarded the ferry a week ago, bound for Kodiak. Joe accepted a position as Chief Engineer there with the same parent company. Even though his email address remains the same, Joe and his family are a three day ferry ride or a $1200 RT plane ride away now. Joe was my closest guy friend on the island, the one who had the key to my house, who I could call for a jumpstart in a blizzard, and who was always welcome when we had a get together. He was also a fellow EMT and Firefighter, and despite his gruff demeanor he had a heart of gold.
This was our Panini Posse (plus Elaine, who is taking the photo). Kristine introduced us to the magic of panini, and she was the only one with a panini maker. We rotated hosting, and Kristine would bring her panini maker, and through sharing an appliance we were a community. Whenever someone would bring up the idea of everyone having one, so we didn't have to have Kristine cart it from house to house, I would rant about how "everyone doesn't have to have everything" - it made me connect to a more simple time, when maybe there was just one tractor in a village and it was shared. Bless their hearts, they humored me to the end, and the only panini maker went with Joe and family to Kodiak.
Max is five years old, and I have known him for four years. He is always going to have a place in my heart - the whole island has pretty much adopted him, and I'm sure it will be the same way in Kodiak. I can't believe he left right when he was starting to run the fog machine at the Halloween party . . . .
We went over to see them off, along with many, many others. The fire department had a formal ceremony as both Joe and Kristine were members of the volunteer department, but I wanted to be there with my wife and dog, seeing them off as friends.
We watched the ferry leaving Illiuliuk Bay . . .
Motoring past Little Priest Rock and Summers Bay . . .
Then we drove up to Ulatka Head, and through breaks in the fog we caught glimpses of the ferry as it moved past Priest Rock and into the Bering Sea. I called Joe on his cell and told him I was standing on top of the bunker, and he walked out to the stern of the ferry from his cabin and looked at Ulatka Head, still talking on the phone. With the ferry just a speck and maybe 8 miles separating us, I knew he couldn't see me outlined against the skyline but I waved anyways.
Then the fog closed in and they were gone, and I was alone on Ulatka Head with my wife and my dog. My wife has been and will always be my best friend, and I have a brother in Maine who is everything you could ask for and more in a guy friend, but that Joe Robinson was something special. Farewell buddy, hope our paths cross again . . . .
