Years ago, I was a commercial salmon fisherman in Alaska.
It was hard, dangerous work, with insane hours and long periods of isolation.
I loved it.
To me, it was a grand adventure.
A chance to test myself against the sea, to live as the pioneers had lived.
But not everyone on the crew felt that way.
Every year, as the season drew to a close, some would grow desperately homesick.
And then they would do something that always shocked and saddened me.
They would begin to poison themselves against the entire season.