My first fish

I went ocean fishing for a story, thanks to Betty Kay Charters out of Charleston. First of all, they are just the NICEST people. Seriously. And so helpful, even for beginners.

So you have to get up super early — I had to be there before 6 a.m. Ugh. I was tired and a bit nervous I wouldn't catch anything. That was silly thinking.

Once we got to our first fishing spot (they have fish finders in the boats so they know exactly where the rockfish are hiding), we were taught how to let out the line until it hits the bottom. As soon as Captain Kathi was done showing me, my line had a bite. My first cast.

I reeled and reeled and reeled and reeled, and when I was too tired to fight this fish, I reeled some more. I was breathing hard as if I'd been running, and my arms were burning. When I finally pulled the fish above the water line, Bam Bam (the deck hand, he was great) netted it and flopped it on the deck.

It was huge. And it was eating another fish. Both were ling cod, the best of the best for these rockfishing trips. I had hooked the smaller fish, but it was too small too keep. Luckily, the big one wasn't letting go of its breakfast, because she got tossed right in my bucket!

Many hours and different fishing spots later, I had my limit of seven rockfish, plus one ling cod. We scooted back to the dock, and they rushed my fish to get weighed. Twenty-nine pounds. Twenty-nine pounds of delicious fish.

Here's the beast, barely fitting in my bucket full of other fish.

A nice guy named James, who was on the same boat and took my pic with the fish after it got weighed, held open its mouth for me. Those teeth are sharp.

Here's me with my fish! Lots of people were taking my picture, and even more were stopping by and asking me about it. Beginner's luck, I tell ya.

Overall, that was one of the most fun things I've ever done for my job (yeah, I was clocked in while I was on the water). I can't wait to do it again.

Fruitless fishing

Last Friday was a perfect example of why I love this job. To do a story on a fishing guide, he gladly allowed me to tag along on one of his guided boats, and we went to the Umpqua River, which flows half an hour north of the Bay Area.

It was foggy. It was early. Like, 6 a.m. early. We couldn't see the other side of the river, and we launched almost silently, save for his boat's motor.

Here's Rick and his dog, Molly, who was trying to get the bubbles coming from the motor. She was adorable — couldn't wait to get a fish.

U.S. Highway 101 bridge, behind the fog.

Got to watch the sun rise and burn off the fog — incredible feeling.

And by the end of the morning, it looked like this. I got some sun (mostly on my ears and hands, since they were basically the only parts exposed). What we didn't get was fish. Not a bite. Not a nibble. Nothing.

Rick couldn't believe it. The conditions were right. The bait was nice. He's done this his whole life, so he certainly wasn't mistaken. Sometimes the fish just aren't hungry, I suppose.

His boat caught 10 fish the next day. And he nabbed a 40-pound salmon on Monday. The luck of the outdoors writer — perhaps their fishy friends warned them about all the spawning (and necessary killing) I'd done at the hatcheries. Oh well, it still wasn't a bad way to work for six hours on the clock.

Sports rambling roundup

So I haven't complained about sports for awhile. Got a couple things on my mind.

First, the Super Bowl. Yes, it's coming. No, I cannot wait. But the thing I'd like to talk about is media during Super Bowl week. (Yes, I'm aware I'm a media nerd, but as a member of the media, I feel appalled by where my profession — on the large scale — is heading.)

It's almost unbearable. Today's "news," coming from the likes of TMZ:

Big Ben takes his linemen out to a piano bar. SCANDAL. GASP. DISGUST.

That's how we're supposed to react, I suppose. TMZ also tried to say they were out past their curfew, which they denied, so I find that humorous. First question: Why is ESPN reporting on TMZ's postings? ESPN is the greatest and most credible news organization out there — sports or not. I find it an insult to media that they'd take TMZ reports as truth.

Also: Who cares? He went to a bar. Going to a bar does NOT mean he went to a bar, hit on girls and raped them in the bathroom (which he wasn't charged on anyway, so that's neither here nor there). He's not 14 years old. He's not even barely legal to drink. There's nothing here.

I'm currently listening to Pardon the Interruption, and Mike Wilbon, a new columnist for ESPN and a fantastic writer, called the media "morons" for caring about this. They're bored. There's nothing left to discuss because they've been talking about the matchup for two weeks, Wilbon said. Point proven, from a true member of the media who's willing to speak his mind.

Now, college

Yes, college football. I realize that's not relevant right now, aside from national signing day being yesterday, and we had a couple local guys sign with a Division II school.

But all over ESPN (OK, apparently I'm attacking major news networks today) were images of high school players signing to major schools. ESPN! High schoolers! Some of which may not even be 18 years old yet!

Let that sink in.

The scandal that we saw all over the place was Cam Newton getting paid (or not) to go to college, and not in scholarship terms. We all know that story. So why is ESPN feeding the "star" treatment, which I guarantee is why Cam thought he could get money for college football, for others?

These football players have never been told no. And now they've been featured on ESPN, a network which reports on money scandals and discusses schools making money off unpaid football players, which many find unsavory. Schools sell jerseys and use athletes' names, but those athletes never see a dime. No, I don't like that. And no, I don't think college players should be paid money outside of scholarships.

But how is ESPN any different than those schools? They sold commercials for their live signing day coverage. They got ratings for it. They ran stories online which produces page hits and Internet advertising.

Until ESPN chills on high school prospects and stops feeding the beast — namely the big-man-on-campus ideal — Reggie Bush scandals will continue, and football players will continue to take money because they feel they deserve it.

I call that unsavory.

A cat's life

Life is hard. A cat's life isn't.

Seriously, how did they get so lucky? I mean, right this second, they're both curled up next to each other on the couch, Ozzy in his nest and Hendrix in a yoga position.

Ozzy's major obsession is this blanket made by my friend Michelle — and in his defense, it's super warm and soft. So he often looks at it — pleading — until I form it into the perfect nest-like structure. Then he'll climb inside and sleep for hours at a time.

The highlight of his day. Aside from d-i-n-n-e-r.

Maybe we can trade lives one day.

Of course, it's telling that I'm home at 3:26 in my pajamas, and have been for hours. Lay off, I worked for about 9 hours on Saturday sitting at a volleyball tournament while I was deathly ill. And I didn't get home until 10 p.m. last night.

A cat's life, mine isn't.

My work day on Thursday

So another photo post. I know. But I like to make you jealous of my job, sometimes. Here's how I spent my afternoon on Thursday (for a story, haha).

Sand railing. Dune buggy-ing. I did it. Sand in my teeth, wind in my face, kind of did it. 

Though I didn't drive, which is probably for the best.

This guy did. He's 80. He's been railing since 1957, which was basically before they were really invented, and definitely before you could buy them in stores and rent them for an hour.

All suited up and on the beach. Pretty sweet ride, for sure. This guy knows how to drive.

He found a crab shell or something. He's a wily one, with so many friends it's ridiculous. And more stories than you can imagine. 

He told me one time he drove by three naked ladies sunbathing where they thought they couldn't be seen, and he was embarrassed. And one time, he ran out of gas in the middle of the dunes, and he was embarrassed then, too. I had a cold, and after we met up for lunch and an interview, he brought me what he called the best cough drops ever when we went buggy-ing. He claimed it cured tonsillitis. I'm not sure about that one, but I'll let you know if they are, indeed, the best cough drops ever.

Shipwrecked

At Horsfall Beach, which has been nothing but pristine, long stretches of sand every time I've visited, surprised me the other day when I went out for a story on beachcombing. The U.S. Forest volunteer told me there was a shipwreck being uncovered, which I had no idea resided in the sands of Horsfall.

It's rusty and quite old, and after some research, I've figured out what ship it is, and that it gets uncovered after winter storms. According to The World newspaper information from when the Sujameco was discovered: 

The 3,542-ton, 324-foot steel steamer was built in 1920. It was traveling from San Francisco to Coos Bay on Feb. 28, 1929, and ran into fog while trying to find the entrance to Coos Bay. On March 1, the Sujameco hit the beach at full speed roughly eight miles north of Coos Bay. The U.S. Coast Guard cutter Redwing and two Coos Bay tugboats couldn’t pull it from the beach. Its crew of 29 abandoned the vessel; it was later cut up for scrap during World War II. Its remains can sometimes be seen at Horsfall Beach during winter when sand recedes. 

And so here it is, peeking out! It was a nice surprise, though low tide had passed so I was unable to get much closer — it was so stormy that waves still were periodically lapping around the remains. I've seen photos online showing nearly the entire outline of the ship, so I know there's much, much more hiding under there!

It was a nice day and I was working. On the beach. I like the photo of this whole shell, but didn't use it for my beachcombing story and I wanted to share it. Horsfall Beach is one of my favorite places, if only we didn't have to pay to park there.

I like everything about fall

I never understand why people like summer the best. Sure, there's no school, so when you're young, that's cool. But now, I don't get a summer break, and there's almost nothing good about it. It's always hot and only baseball is going on, which quite obviously is useless to me.

But summer here is nice. The skies are always blue, it's hardly ever hot (although it did reach 90 here once) and there are fewer people on these beaches than on eastern beaches.

But now that fall is here, it's even better. It's cool, but the skies are still blue, and the leaves are changing color. Yes, we have trees that aren't made of pine, but they aren't the only kind we have, so things are still green all winter, too. It's basically perfect. It's football season, and hockey just started. We have our football bar all picked out, and the food is awesome. We just found a bar that shows a ton of hockey games, which will come in handy when the playoffs come around and Versus feels like showing MMA instead of super important playoff hockey.

Speaking of hockey, the Bobcats are 7-0. And I'm not there. I didn't get to see our banner from last year raised, and they might get another one this year. So sad we're missing out, but I have my correspondent Katie to fill us in. It feels weird that I'm not on campus right now, and John isn't coming down to visit so we could hit up hockey games, then order DP Dough. I guess that means we're adults, now.

Although he still kind of gets a summer break. Jerk. I guess I'll just enjoy fall.

Pre lives

Seriously. 

If you were in Coos Bay for the 30th Annual Prefontaine Memorial Run, then you'd know it, too. Nearly 1400 people raced, with Great Britain and Australia represented. The guy from Australia won, sporting a rocking mustache/sideburn combo a la Steve Prefontaine. His long lost twin, I swear.

Coos Bay isn't big. At all. And people gather here from all over the world, no matter how old they are, just to pay homage to this great runner. That amazes me. Half those people out there weren't even alive while he was alive!

It's humbling, really. I don't like running. In fact, I hate it. But the dedication and love shown today as I saw Bradley Cooper cross that finish line, barely breathing heavy and completely capable of giving me a full interview directly after he finished, was just too much. All for the love of running. All for the love of one man, a man that none of these people knew personally, although I think his sister ran, and his mother was there.

It's unreal. I'll never understand the sport of running, but I will always respect it.

Pre lived again today — I could feel it.

Yay football!

Right now, we're sitting on the couch watching college football being played on a bright blue field. I'm preparing for the Civil War game on Friday night, the first of many football games for the season, and my career. NFL games starts soon.

But fall is a bit different here. It's still hot in Ohio this time of year. I'll probably wear a sweatshirt over my dress clothes to the game. The leaves aren't quite changing yet, but the air is still crisp. Mostly because the air is crisp all summer here in Coos Bay.

I was introduced at the who's who of Coos Bay/North Bend athletics luncheon today, and kind of felt like a celebrity, which John (the sports editor) basically is. Everyone loves him here, and people were so excited to meet me, for whatever reason. It seems I'm the first female full-time sports writer. Take that, glass ceiling!

Both coaches are hilarious, nice and fun. They're absolutely NOTHING like the coaches I dealt with at the Advocate. I think these guys actually like their job. And North Bend just won the league last year. Odd how that works out, when you have a coach who's fun. Rick Taylor may be my new favorite person in this town. Either way, I'm enjoying this full-time sports writer thing, where coaches and players know who I am when I walk up, and I don't have to introduce myself as 'Rachel Finney, sports writer with The World,' every time I call them.

Plus, I got free pizza topped with sausage and mushrooms.

Working working work

I'm working and working and working, and two-a-day practices haven't even started yet. That's next week.

Hopefully we'll find some relax time and go-to-Eugene time because we have some errands and surprises and fun to do there.

I can't complain about my job though. It pays, and I have a super duper nice sports editor who truly appreciates having me around for football season, and truly loves that football is my favorite time of the year. I'll gladly help take some of the craziness of football off his back.

Of course, it's more difficult to work when I have a cute husband sitting at home not working. :)

Overworking and loving it

So the newspaper business...it wears on you. In the past week, I have definitely worked more than the 8 hours per day I'm supposed to, mostly because I didn't take lunch when the President of the University of Oregon was speaking at a luncheon nearby, or when I needed a story (or two...and a photo) done first thing in the morning and I don't get done with interviews until about 4. It's a lot of work, and most people don't realize how difficult it is on the other side of the presses.

Most of the people in that newsroom are writing for crappy benefits (that will hopefully also be my crappy benefits...I'll nurture them with care), and working many more hours than they are paid. And it's not often we hear good news from the readers. If we don't hear a complaint, we take that as a good sign. It's not often a rewarding or satisfying job, because usually someone must complain.

There are only so many hands to type stories, take photos, copy down quotes and lay out pages. We can't be everywhere at once, which means we'll miss something once and a while. Or a lot. And we might forget about that event this weekend, because the fair has taken over our lives, or football season is about to start. Please don't yell at us -- we appreciate your polite reminders, though, because we really are there for the readers and the public, whether you believe we hate you or not. We try so hard to please everybody, and even though you know that's impossible, you still complain. 

But that means your reading. And that, folks, THAT, we truly appreciate.

I actually haven't had a complainer yet, although I got one polite reminder that the newspaper forgot about a huge garden show this weekend (which wasn't even my fault). But I have heard a few raves about the coverage at The World and how well they do supporting local businesses and events. It makes me proud to be working for them, with as much as I've heard from my story subjects. Fingers crossed that my employment continues upon our return from Canada.

Man, I'm tired, and I love it so much. Thanks for letting me be in the newspaper business.