Rest in Peace Captain Phil Harris

My old partner Saint Nicholas was a man who was known as having dominion over many things. They say he was a person who was the patron saint of more causes than any other. To say he was the role model of overachievers was an understatement. But one that made a lasting impression was the patron saint of sailors and ships. 'Twas his wishes that helped guide sailors back from rough seas into safe ports. And it is news of one of his own that I bring to you today. No doubt you'll hear more on The Discovery Channel in coming days with impromptu marathons thrown into their schedules, but this is something that Krampus wished to convey.

The Deadliest Catch is a show featuring men working on one of the last frontiers, the open seas. The Bering Sea, to be precise. One of the roughest, most unrelenting stretches of water. Every year, the sea claims lives every year in pursuit of a modern day gold rush, various species of crab like Alaskan King and Opilio, bringing in hundreds of thousands of dollars to each ship every season to those bold enough to work days and nights on end, battling freezing temperatures and battering elements. The show brought us the lives of old salts, captains and crews risking their lives for a life of adventure. Real men, some would say theirs is a dying breed. Still, they would have it no other way, living life to the fullest and reaping its rewards. These are men who would do the same thing if and when there are no cameras upon them, bringing us a view into their lives, becoming parts of families with every episode. You know men like these, fathers, uncles, cousins, friends, men who give not a fuck about political correctness. Men who carve their own ways in this life. And it is with this that I feel a need to inform those who will feel the passing of one such man.

Captain Phil Harris was a lifelong fisherman, captain of the Cornelia Marie in the fleet of fishermen. A rough and tumble man seen raising his sons Jake and Josh in his life, showing them the tough love only a crab fisherman could give. Not to coddle them, but to train them to go onto any ship in the fleet and do the tasks well, and the family name proud. Phil Harris was pronounced dead earlier this morning. He was 53. He suffered a stroke in January while unloading crabs, but showed signs of improvement as recently as last week.

In an entry posted Feb. 3, Harris's children told Discovery, "Today, dad showed some good signs of improvement, squeezing our hands and even summoning his trademark Captain's bluntness by telling the doctors and nurses, "Don't fuck up." We are encouraged but still very cautious." Below is the message released by the Harris's sons Jake and Josh after their father's death:

"It is with great sadness that we say goodbye to our dad - Captain Phil Harris. Dad has always been a fighter and continued to be until the end. For us and the crew, he was someone who never backed down. We will remember and celebrate that strength. Thanks to everyone for their thoughts and prayers. - Jake and Josh Harris"

Some of the last words he uttered to friends, families and doctors. Don't fuck up. That was a sure sign of the kind of man he was. But he deserves far more than simple blog write-ups and news bytes. During the 2007-2008 season, the crew was bunked down for the night. A rogue wave nearly rolled the boat over, hurling Phil out of his bed and against the corner of a shelf. He had trouble breathing and believed he had cracked ribs. Still, the chain smoking captain pushed on through, wishing that the film crew didn't alert his children that he was now coughing up blood. When they broke down and informed them regardless, the crew insisted that they turn back and get him medical attention, as he would surely do so for any of them. It was discovered that the blood was a clot that moved its way up from his legs to his lungs, an affliction that took a member of his family a short time before.

Fortunately Phil's health improved to rejoin the crew mid-season the next year. We also got a glimpse into his life. He admitted that his preferred way to die would be to be at sea, have a heart attack and simply slip off at the helm of his ship, one with the waters and life he loved. To many people's favor, this was not the case. The event was a wake-up call to other members of the fleet. Phil did all he could to return to the life he loved. In the meantime, he built custom, high quality birdhouses. Did you know that? A crab fisherman making birdhouses! But he could turn time, effort and several dollars into beautiful works of art, ports for birds in their own storms. It reminds me of how Samurai were also proficient in calligraphy, haikus or cultivating Bonsai trees. A gentler, yet beautiful counter to the rougher life he lead.

In the opinion of Krampus, the sea can be a fickle mistress. But to someone who loved her as much as Phil, the wave was a wake-up call to him and all lives he touched. Despite his romantic notion, this was not to be. The sea told all that she was not prepared to claim him, that he had a life, a purpose, a family. He lived, and all were grateful to have him in their lives a bit longer. And when he finally reached a safe port this year, only then did his body alert others something was wrong. The sea can choose to claim souls. But it's another love entirely to let one go to those it should be among. Phil's health began to fail at port, among people who could fight for him, who would give their all just as he would for any of his crew and family. In the end, it was a reminder that one can do everything properly, give everything they have, and still fail at their tasks. Not for lack of the attempt, but because it was simply their time. Krampus respects those who die as they live. Captain Phil Harris of the Cornelia Marie did exactly that. His body waited to let go until the ship came back, its cargo to be unloaded. If that isn't dedication, then Krampus knows few others that embody the definition.

Rest In Peace, Captain Phil, you've earned it. And may whatever God the Harris family calls to comfort them and let them know their father's soul is in a better place. And to those still among the living, raise your glasses this week and give a toast to a great captain and person.