Mike Corey

Why not?

They down another round of vodka shots, then move into the living room, where Mike flops onto a battered recliner and lights a cigarette.

Then Mike starts to talk.

Bob realizes quickly that Mike DiCapua loves to talk, mostly about being a fisherman and how he's one of the only good ones left.

You ever fish, Bob?

No, but I'd like to learn.

Bob explains that he tried all summer to find work on a fishing boat, but no one was willing to take on a 39-year-old newbie.

Maybe Mike could help him?

But Mike just laughs and pours himself another shot.

Me teaching a coastie how to fish.

Now that'd be something.

Mike keeps talking, telling one yarn after another about how he first came to Alaska to skip out on parole, about women he's been with, ships he's sailed on.

And Bob decides to keep listening.

He hopes that if he listens long enough, Mike will change his mind and help him find some work.

Mike DiCapua walks along the main pier of Old Thompson Harbor, pulling his collar tight against the wind.

Bob Doyle walks with him.

It's January 1998, and by now the two men have been fishing together for a few weeks.

Mike hates to admit it, but he's been impressed with how quickly Bob is learning the job.

But Mike doesn't like their skipper, so they've decided to switch boats.

They're looking for a ship called the La Conti, which they've heard needs two deckhands.