Snug Harbor

     After Camille blew away our fishing camp in Harrison County we decided to build again in the little village of Snug Harbor near the Rigolets Bridge. We were at the end of the small waterway that George dug with dragline and crane some years ago.

       We transplanted pines from our Mississippi summer camp, partly as a buffer to the highway close by. This provided a bird sanctuary as the stand of pines grew taller over the years.  

      Jane Mansfield was killed on this very same stretch of road coming from an engagement on the Gulf Coast. The mosquito sprayers still work this area at night. She was killed as the car ran under the back of one of these trucks that was fogging.
     I spent many days fishing in the marshes and bayous that are adjacent to this body of water.      Honey Island is not far away. This island gave rise to the Bigfoot legend that persists even today.      The dope growers take advantage of this myth to keep people out of their illegal grow operations. The island is overrun with wild pigs so many young guys get their first chance to kill something hunting on Honey Island. It was so named because of the beekeepers that kept their hives on the island figuring bees can come and go over water to gather the pollen necessary for the creation of honey. The water is a barrier to humans thus the bees are protected.

      During the Spring, the trout make their way into the spawning grounds within the marshes along the shoreline of Lake Pontchartrain.       

        The speckled trout and white trout are so hungry they will hit any live bait you put in the water.  In the many days of Spring, we filled our ice chests with fish.  

     You rise before dawn to check the tide charts and position yourself in a likely spot along the channel.  Early morning is when the light is low and happens to be the best time to fish saltwater.  It all made sense in those days.   We supplied everyone with fish. 

      The crab pots and the trot lines provided enough food for the whole community. The old man was eyeing the seafood industry for a retirement income. After it was all said and done we barely broke even.  My folks lived there for a good ten years before Katrina took everything they had, built over those years of freedom and productivity.

    Each full moon brought increasingly higher waters that threatened the little community of Snug Harbor. It inundated the roadways.  My brother made the folks sell out and move to Texas and the safety of higher ground. They were getting older..  This was the second time my Dad escaped the devastation of hurricanes that frequently formed in the Gulf of Mexico.  Cashingout is sometimes the best thing to do.

       Slidell is the best little Southern town to leave as quickly as you can.   It is filled with all sorts of escapees from New Orleans who have little to offer to a well meaning man.     Interstate 10 is home to the largest truck stop in the World.  There is more dope in transit on I 10 than anywhere else in the South.  Much of that dope is stopped in Louisiana because of the Super Troopers that patrol this roadbed.  Hail to the Mighty Guardians.

  One year we took a trip to Albita Springs to visit the Artesian wells that stay flowing year round. This is the land of the rednecks so you had better be prepared to answer questions by the likes of the KKK.    Every church has a chapter.  It looks peaceful enough but step out of line and say something liberal and these types will come after you.
    One of these years, I almost went to work at Grand Isle where there are many charter boats taking fishermen to the oil rigs. My girlfriend had moved there with her wealthy parents.  One can always get a job as a boat handler or bait boy for very wealthy fishermen.  

    My very first girlfriend was named Becky. She lived on Grand Isle since her father was big in the oil business.  I tried to work as a boat handler.  It is really hard to break in to that line of work. These are family run charter boats manned by the younger son. Hired ons must fit with the business plan.

    There is so much more to tell about the Cajuns of South Louisiana.  One of my fondest memories were the Fais do do which means sleep baby sleep.    These are celebrations where families and friends get together and party way into the night drinking and eating seafood until there is nothing left but go home to fight and fuck.

   My family held their parties at the fishing camp along the southeastern shore of the Lake.  One has to cross the tracks in the dark to find the elevated walkway to the cabin on stilts built over the lake. The mosquitoes were intense so there was always many spray cans of Off insecticide near the door. 

   We found that it contained DDT which is highly toxic and cancer causing. We were young and knew no better.  The insect coils only worked for a few hours provided there was no breeze.                These toxic laden sprays accumulate in the system and can cause acute mental illness due to the toxicity. As the liver is overburdened with elimination these chemicals that eventually wind up in body fat. It takes years to get rid of the problem.  Many die because of being these chemicals. Live and learn.

The Westsound Boys

   The crew at Westsound Marina was training to win the small boat sailing at the Olympics.  They were getting very fast with their skills. It looked promising. The one small problem with seaman though, is the drinking.  

      Overcoming this is difficult without guidance.  One of the mechanics took me along on a check of the engine of a hot rod boat. The engine was massive and she sat low in the water.  Turning the helm even slightly could have disastrous effects.   He was loathe to let me drive the thing.  The Sound is about a 3 miles in length.  We traversed the Sound in seconds.
      I took what I learned at the boat yards and came up with idea for the Americas Cup using the principle of gyroscopic action to stabilize a sailing ship in the upright position. This would optimize its movement through water and improve the sail thrust so there is very little wind spillage.

      My idea was to mount a giant flywheel on specialized bearings at the foot of the mainmast. The architect could hide it in a circular affair that doubles as a mess table.  This flywheel would serve as a counterweight to the press of the wind thus ensuring efficiency through the water. You simply engage the edge with a cordless drill motor with a rubber wheel if you need more revolutions.
     I also thought of releasing air bubbles at the leading edge of the keel below the waterline which adds buoyancy and lessens friction.  I recently saw this design feature is now used on the newer cruise ships. Designing a way for the hull to seep baby oil would certainly add to hull speed.          

      These tricks I learned as a competitive swimmer.   Later, I found out the hull length is the o hull speed.   This is why the taller swimmer is faster in the water.   I was recruited to coach swimming at the London Olympics a few years ago.  After much effort to obtain the work visa and documentations required for the job, I decided not to go. It takes a great deal of money to travel well.

      I suddenly left San Diego on my Great Central American trip. The scams I've been involved with are legendary. Get evidence before you waste your money online.  99.9 of all money related emails are scams, frauds and idiots shaking the tree just to see what comes down.  It is the Great American pastime.

Saltwater

       I am all about bringing saltwater from the ocean ashore where we could do something with it like remove the salt through evaporation. This is not as hard as it is portrayed by science. There is a lot of heat being released in manufacturing of goods. Why not harness that heat and boil saltwater which will evaporate into steam and the condense the steam into freshwater? The freshwater is produced once the water vapor is condensed by cooling.

       This is not a difficult thing, in essence. It will take cooperation of business entities. This is how Tibetan monks have been purifying water for centuries.  Even the deserts could be the site for this distillation process. Simply tube saltwater to the desert and evaporate the water. Collect the salt for other uses and condense the water vapor into potable water.

     Redesigning the carrier pipe to the desert could involve dividing the tube with a semipermeable membrane similar to the one used in Reverse Osmosis. This membrane would filter out the salt so it would separate the two types of water. Saltwater stores heat very well so it could be used to heat homes. There are many uses for very hot salty water just as there are many uses for freshwater.
      This is how to heat water in the tropics or e the temperate zones and maybe in the northern latitudes depending on the amount of sunshine you get.   You simply lay out a coil of black plastic tubing at least 2 inches in diameter on the ground. Even better on old galvanized panels painted black corraled in a box. You make a tight concentric coil horizontally, somewhere that is lit most of the day by direct sunlight.  You do the bending by filling the tubes with hot sand. Then connect your supply hose to one end which is a simple plumbing endeavor.  Route the other end to your shower and kitchen.

      You've got to be careful because this produces very hot water. There is nothing hard or expensive with this project. The diameter can vary depending on the supply of water. Usually you build to accommodate at least one shower. The bigger the coil the bigger the volume you can heat.   There are limits. You could also store much of the hot water in an old hot water heater tank. You create the hot water during the day for evening showers.  These ideas aren't new but under distributed.
     As with almost anything worthwhile, it takes sufficient capital and political will to accomplish a project.  I once worked at a radio station at The University of Western Washington in Bellingham. They actually built the tiny five watt station into a community radio while I was there.This was something very powerful since it reached many people around the school. It was very community oriented as if to say thank you for your support.   They never ever said it was because I was there but it sure seemed like it. I even developed a live music sound stage in the lounge next to the station.  Some of the best bands in the region found this setup to be advantageous to their careers.  

      There was lots of activity that inspired the University to fund these improvements.  In fact, the President of the University, Mortimer was his name actually became President of the next University I attended which was the University of Hawaii in Honolulu. Hard to say whether it was intentional or coincidence but it was something I noticed as I moved through these educational environments.  I finally graduated from the University of Hawaii Manoa.

     Six long years to get a B.A. The count was three Universities attended but many of my academic achievements were not accepted by the schools. This is not counting the free universities I spent time with.  

    No one ever offered me a paying position anywhere.  You don't automatically get a job when you graduate. I gave up and went sailing. Even this cost me a great deal of money just to crew on a private ship. Those blighty Canadians are so cheap.
    Saltwater is plentiful and useful.  One can simply evaporate the water and collect the salt which is full of additional minerals. Saltwater holds heat very well.  I always cooked with saltwater so no need to season the food whether they are beans or millet. Everything tasted better somehow.
       One winter, I caught a big rock crab covered with barnacles.  I took him back to my place gave him a hot bath.  I guess it was a little too hot.  He turned red.  Rather than throwing him away, I had a very nice crab dinner, still thinking he was watching my every move. Where was the Buddhist in you when you need him?  Should have driven him back to  Obstruction Pass where I caught him.  I think about that one lonely crab sometimes and get heartsick for destroying a life.

The Hydro Technician

         Orcas Island in the winter has no jobs whatsoever. There are a few restaurants that will use you to wait tables or wash dishes. This is how I survived one long winter by caretaking a farm for shelter. I was working as a dishwasher for Cristina's' Restaurant in Eastsound.   I'd show up around 4 in the afternoon to wash the kitchen utensils for Cristina. 

     She spent the day preparing the evening meals. This means shopping for island fresh produce and ordering fresh caught salmon from Alaska flown in by seaplane. Everything she could find locally she would incorporate in her designs for her dinner guests. 

     The restaurant was always filled with off islanders who thought they found a sanctuary of comfort. True that. Everyone looked upon her restaurant with favor. She had been to chef school and specialized in pastries. She said go to pastry school if you want a job as a chef.
        I turned into the chief cleaner for the restaurant. Mopping the kitchen, as well as doing the dishes was the norm.  I was called upon for many chores and repairs that keeps a restaurant working. My plumbing skills were such a Godsend for this restaurant. It was one big happy family except for the waiters and waitresses panicking at nothing.   Everything was copacetic.                  

   Break time you were able to choose a nice supper which was added incentive to perform well for the $8/ hr. you made.  It was never enough to feel secure. Cristina allowed me to use the company insurance to get my broken hand fixed again. I will always be grateful for her kindness.
     One night, who walks in the joint but Wynton Marsalis.  He is the great trumpet player from New Orleans. The entourage that followed him was astounding.  We had to shift gears for this celebrity guest.

      There were others who showed up at Christina's including people like Richard Bach the writer. You might remember Jonathan Livingston Seagull as being popular light reading. 

    There were others who ran businesses on Orcas that sought the refuge of Cristina's home cooking. Attending to these massive egos was not my forte. I kept to the dishwashing scene not wanting the botheration of local politics.  They knew I was there because I would get invitations to a table much to the chagrin of the wait staff.
     Every shift started with a cappuccino followed by whatever else was plentiful. We had our fun. One night, Dr. Williams came in to find the father of a boy we all knew. 

       It was not good news. While rocketing around in the family car showing off to a girlfriend he crashed into a tree and killed himself. The others escaped with injuries. When something like this happens the whole community grieves. He was just 17.  I had seen injuries like that when I worked for the State Park system.   

    One memorable afternoon, we were called to a yacht. You must learn to duck when changing tacks, especially, if it is a gybe situation.  The girl was too drunk to react well.  The boom came across the cockpit and smacked her up side the head so hard it broke her sunglasses with the shards embedding in her eye. She was blinded and blindsided by her landlubber stance.            

    Another time, a man was cleaning the bottom of his vessel and fell off the scaffolding. I was doing some work for the good Doctor when the call came in. I overheard the conversation. He did not make it to the clinic. DOA  Such are the summer months on Orcas. They finally built a new medical clinic for the islanders much to the joy of my medical friends.
      I would retreat to Mt Constitution for relief from the crowds invading Orcas during the summer. There are two small lakes beyond the larger Cascade Lake. They are called Pine and Cedar Lakes. These are the most poetic of any high elevation lakes I've ever come across.  There are lotus flowers that bloom in the summer at Cedar.   

        Staring into a lotus flower is enchanting. With the frilly pink accents on the petals make it picture perfect. The symmetry is excellent.  The creamy colored hues will dance in your mind. The flower is remarkable because it displays high above the water almost to say, "I am above this world forever."  No wonder that the Buddhists made it a symbol of purity.
        Since I lived in Olga, I was adjacent to Moran State Park. I found a trail across Michael Boyd's land to the remote reaches of the Park. Always curious, I walked to the very Southeast corner of the park. I pushed through the wild Rhododendrons to find a sunlit meadow on a cliff high above the waters surrounding Orcas. I was the very first to ever visit there.

     This meadow was enchantingly beautiful. There were many deer skulls interwoven in the wild grasses. It appeared to be the choice of the deer to come spend their final moments in a beautiful scene of majestic beauty. To me, this was the poetry of animals and a guide for my life.
       One day I stopped in to visit with a senior widow I knew. She complained about stiffness and slowly was becoming chair bound. I insisted she go see the Osteopath which is like a Chiropractor but knows more. After only one visit she was able to put away her cane and walk out of the house for the first time in years. Old age does not have to be disabling. Go see somebody who can really help you when you can't handle it yourself.
        I was excited to find this new way to the Park. I carried my bike to the trails in park leading all the way to Eastsound with just a few miles on the highway. It was just another time of adventuring on Orcas which I thought I could make use of which ultimately shortened the trip by many miles.

    The trail led me to the old earthen dam. Built in the thirties it stored the rainwater for the summer in Moran as Orcas tends to dry up.  Venturing down to Eastsound was always most alarming since I was now in full retreat from society.   My gypsy caravan was almost finished and parked in a grove on the Walters land I was caretaking under the great trees that shelter this inviting area.

      I built my kayak from scratch and made her into a sailing kayak with sponsons. The canvas hull was saturated with wax which I painted onto the canvas after heating it to liquid. To finish this process, I simply had to lay it in the not July sun so that the wax melted into the fabric. I thought I had discovered a new technique for waterproofing canvas. Soon though, I remembered my scouting days as being the source of this technique. 

      Louisiana creativity never leaves you. Growing up in the South, one had to be creative or perish. It is just like the old adage publish or perish when in graduate school. This is driven into your head.   For a life artist like me this was my thesis. My art is my life itself. Alas, no one will even remember that I  existed.  This is why I write. I write to remember the times I had totally alone.

The J Pod

    While kayaking one morning on the north shore of Orcas I encountered, what the rangers call the J pod. This is a Family of Orcas that make the journey from Haro Strait to Sucia and Matia Marine State Park where I worked as a trainer for troubled youth.       

        It was quite the thing to even see this pod. You must be in the right place at the right time even to get a glimpse of their dorsals. My luck is simply being persistent with basic knowledge about Orcas. This family of whales reminded me of my struggles in life.

       I was so far from home and fighting to survive. I was committed to the welfare of others with no thought of my own life. I had to make a difference somehow or other,  I knew I would be cared for.  I am still waiting to be protected like these whales.  

    One day I kayaked over to Waldron to study the seals on the very North shore of this remote island. I crawled on my belly to the overlook where the rookery was.  The seals were frolicking in the surf teaching the pups how to swim and feed on clams. 

     Suddenly there was a giant whoosh of air from the blowhole of the lead Orca. Each seal turned toward the sound as the scurry began in earnest. The females were herding the pups ashore in a panicked rush. 

  Gratefully the danger passed by.  Not one seal went back into the water that afternoon. 

Fayetteville, Arkansas

Living in Fayetteville, I became reluctant to make friends. Luckily, I met Tom who introduced me to the Mission Ave Baptist Church. This is an independent Baptist Church of the first order. 

   The pastor came to see me at my apt. He asked me to accept Jesus which I did wholeheartedly.  Suddenly, a vision appeared as he prayed for me. It was the three crosses as depicted in the Bible.  The sky was purple and very unusual. The scarlet curtains were opened in the fading light.  The drama was intense. The Hand of God was upon me. I was soon baptized. Amazing. Prayer became something to look forward to.  I sought guidance.  Suddenly God in beautiful ramient an a shining golden face appeared to me. He lifted his arm and pointed to the Mission Avenue Church. As sudden as this was, he disappeared into the ether. I studied there for awhile until I had the fight with Larry. I broke his nose and he bled all over his white shirt  He was giving me a lift to work in a potato factory and put me out a few miles from the job.  As he was pulling away, I kicked the door panel so hard it dented. He jumped out of the Ford and started swinging. I was forced to leave since nothing good can come of that. Away I went fully baptized but no friends now.

   I met the Rainbows who were holding their Gathering at the Buffalo River. I left with them to Oklahoma where a tornado had destroyed many houses.  This was something I could do repair damaged houses.

   I abandoned the Baptists as phony Christians intent on a different circumstance which I found in the Love Family  I met Love and was invited to the Ranch in Arlington. This was at the Healing Gathering in Washington. I had flown from Fayetteville to San Francisco then hitched to Seattle in the middle of winter. I finally showed up at the Front Door Inn. Salvation never looked so good.

The Bay of Islands, New Zealand

    Continuing on, I arrived in Auckland on the North Island of New Zealand after the Fijian misfire. I got right up after being thrown for a loop. I went and sat on the front steps of the Temple to plan my next move.            

      That's when I met Barry from the yet to be built, Auckland Temple. He was nice enough, but edgy.   He invited me to come work on the Temple they were building. I said no at first.  That's when he offered to fly me there and back when my 3 months were up.          

    He sweetened the deal enough for me to agree. I knew I could make a difference.  Devotees have no clue on how to build an ornate, genuine Hindu Temple in the middle of a field next to golf course.

          How big to build is dictated by how much money is available.  Building on the highest elevation saves you form having to set pilings in the soggy turf.   Soon enough, I was buying a hammer shackle and toolbelt looking now for a place to set up my office.  That's when Barry started issuing dictums. He wanted me to remodel the kitchen. I had at it the filthy thing with gusto.

    Improving sanitation and refrigeration is the way you keep people healthy. I worked all night for many days. I was exhausted and needed to rest for a few days to recover. Barry showed up at my quarters. He wanted me immediately to get back to work. I had enough of this two bit straw boss and told him to get the hell out. He also said we are done. 

      I didn't like the way this was ending and told him so. He started to walk away. This was my last chance to finish this. I took a few steps forward and kicked him in the ass so hard that he lifted off the ground. He turned to face me. I'm a street fighter. When the adrenaline is pumping all reason goes out of my brain.

       I grabbed his collar and started swinging him in a circle. It rained heavily the night before. I let go. He went flying face down in the mud. He was now embarrassed, bloody and muddy to boot. He beat a hasty retreat to tattle on me. I started packing. I was getting ready to travel again to Nowhere Soon. Don't mess with a sleeping bear.

      There was another very pleasant NZ who came up and shook my hand saying 'Good on ya' for cleaning his clock.  Barry had been the nemesis of the encampment for some time. Nearly everyone had an issue with this guy. I only regret I did not recognize his Passive-Aggressive pattern before I took the plunge. It's funny how everyone seemed to know about this fight. As I made my way to the jet, I passed two older gentlemen who talked as if they knew about me.  I realized then and there, getting out of NZ was imperative.

       I could have been arrested or detained for fighting. It would have been 'he said, she said' kind of thing ultimately leading to an inconclusive conclusion.  It could lead to deportation.   A very bad record on my passport is not what I came for.  The first jet to Nowhere Soon was in the cards.
   I did take the time one night to look up and see the new constellations I had never seen. It is a totally new sky with the Southern Cross being your guide. One can  see the Magellinic Clouds and all their glory.  I was there in the South Pacific waiting for Halley's comet.  My heart was broken since this meant this was the last time to be with these devotees in this lifetime.  The only thing anyone can do is pick up and carry on. My destination changed to Nowhere Soon way too soon.

     You begin seeing this reassuring sight of the Southern Cross in the winter in Southern Costa Rica. My goal was the Bay of Islands. This is a very fine anchorage for world cruisers and tramp sailors to find a ship to crew on. I figured I'd fit right in. However, it also turned into another bust since my visa was up. I had the second half of my ticket back to Fiji to eventually connect to a flight to Hawaii and the USA.

         When you make a decision, follow through as soon as possible. Waiting around won't do anything for you. Get moving. Pack and repack.  Stay focused on the trip ahead. Check and double check your gear. Get rid of all things metallic, suspicious or illegal because they will find it. That's their job to find it.  I was once stopped by a screener who saw my scissors in my checked baggage via xray. I had to surrender my favorite tool in order not to miss my flight home.       

         By now, winter was pretty much over as I landed in Seattle still dressed in my Aloha shirt. I took refuge at the Front Door Inn on Queen Anne Hill. This set the scene for the best years of my life.  Yet, it was not what you would think. I was now with other long hairs who shared the same love of Family. These folks are called the Love Family.

     The Bay of Islands is by far the best anchorage in the South Pacific. Located on the very Northern part of the North Island of New Zealand. You will find nearly every type of long distance ship and dingy gently bobbing their lives away.  Some are in Paradise and some in Hell. Some are in limbo between the two worlds of contentment and tribulation.  It is the Anchorage where rust never sleeps. Palms and Norfolk Pines are living side by side. The waters are clear but chilly. This is close to the tropic of Capricorn which is 20 degrees from the equator. It is almost Paradise. It is still a long way to go to reach Nowhere Soon.

The Northwest is a Natural State of Being

    Being adventurous in nature, I decided to go to the Makah Indian Reservation which is way past the Olympic State Park on the Olympic Peninsula.       

       You come to a town called Forks and keep on going west instead of turning to the coast.  The other way is Hwy 112 out of Port Angeles which can lead you to a world of hurt or fantastic beauty.  I did this trip because I knew I could. When you have all the time in the world nothing seems impossible.  It is just a matter of endurance.  As the Siddhartha said: I can Think, I can Fast, I can Wait. 

     Neah Bay was nearly my last stop before turning to the many footpaths that eventually led to the Pacific Ocean.  This is not for the day trippers or wandering types but someone who is well prepared and rugged in determination. 

       Mine was neither. Simple curiosity was ruling me now.  I was young and fearless which equates to stupidity if you look at this from the real perspective of honesty. The natives do not like tresspassers so stay in the shadows.
     The path finally led to a military radar installation. I knew nothing of this outpost. I was invited to lunch with the soldiers who man the radar installation. I think they wanted to go with me but were chained to the job.  There were many questions from them.  I would have joined the military had it not been for my poor health and lack of opportunity.               

       After lunch I continued on my Mission to the rugged coast.  The first thing you notice are the dead seabirds and the trees washed up in the turbulent seas that sweep over the smooth beaches and coves of rocks.  Sometimes the only way around the seamounts is to wait for low tide.
     The constant wind is the overriding issue. It is unrelenting in nature and no matter how well you dressed, it gets in down to the bone chilling you completely.  

    The beach is broad. The seamounts appear ready to fall over in a drunken, seasick stupor.  I had to find shelter. There were a few driftwood shacks built by day visitors and fishermen.  I was grateful for the protection. The wind finally died down after sunset which allowed me to sleep some.  I was excited to be in the wilderness again.           

       Not a soul was there. At night these primitive beaches come alive with animals seeking food. This is truly the land of opportunity for wandering creatures. The Ocean is always casting up some form of dinner.  One can turn on a flashlight to see these animal eyes reflecting light off the retinas. It is spooky but amazing just to see how many creatures wander the beach at night.  My vienna sausage tasted like filet mignon surrounded by the wild elegance of nature.
         The next morning, brought more wind and rain. They say if the rain lasts past 10 am in the Pacific Northwest then it will rain all day. By 9 am it had stopped. The sun broke through and the world turned to Paradise again.  I now had the long walk to Flattery Rocks.  

    The long road back to Port Angeles was the last step to this dream. The beach just gets more beautiful as you walk. The windblown, stunted growth speaks of the endurance of life. If you are geologically inclined these scenes are right out of the beach erosion textbook. I found just a few shells there. The beach is swept so that nothing stays in one place. It is continually recycled over and over again.
   Lao Tzu describes this primordial scene.  Those who search will not find.  Those who seek will not be seen. To the calm will true nature be revealed.  I continued on until my destination loomed before me.  Calmness had overtaken my mood. I was within the Tao again.
   On the way back, I stopped in Olympic State Park traveling up to the high meadows that ring these mountains.  The wildflowers were in their riotous colors of tawny reds and iridescent blues and startling yellows. Many people come here to press flowers as a keep sake.  These days it is illegal to even tread these meadows. 

       The flowers appear in photos about the wonders of the State Parks in Washington.  There are Hot Springs in abundance that attracts many youthful followers. They shun their clothing. Be prepared to see the natural beauty of the female human body. There is nothing finer in this world than soaking away a week's worth of dirt for free in the Hot Springs of Olympic National Park.

Jumping the Garden Wall

Like a cat in the night
He makes his way
to the Garden Wall
is where he will stay

Watching the window
Her light softly glows
He sings his sweet love songs
In the breeze as it blows

Not a whisper is heard
Nor a phrase or a verse
Surrounding her now
Soon to immerse

In sleep so sweet
The dreams so profound
All about people 

And lonely sounds

Perched on the wall
Happy in verse 

Soon to find love
What could be worse?

Than love on the breeze
The effort is made
Protecting young love
The world he must wade

Jeffersonbrella

The Umbrella Shop

This is not the ordinary umbrella  you see in Seattle. These are innovative types that hold endless possibilities.  In a flash of brilliance,  I saw many uses and designs that have applications immediately.

1  Air Umbrella
      Take a portable and lightweight air compressor with a tube that leads to a spinner on top of the umbrella stick or even on a hat,  that sends out a pinwheel of compressed air so that it blows away the falling water enough to keep you dry. 

       This device could have different settings. If the wind is blowing it probably would be overcome but in a shower it would be suitable. It could all be built within the handle. Batteries not included.

2 A Solar Collector Umbrella
       Like a photographers umbrella except it collects solar energy that could be converted to electricity. 

     You would be in a position to sell or barter energy to other beach goers whose phone, laptop or tablet that needs recharging. 

      Solar voltaics are thin enough and flexible enough to be built in an umbrella configuration. The inside would need to be pointed to the sun since the voltaic cells would line the interior.

3 Antenna Umbrella
     Simply line the inside of the umbrella with foil and point it at the Ionosphere. You could hear reflected radio waves if you have wired the thing to your radio. It could also double as a solar cooker. Star Wars had one.

4 A Water Collection system
       Turned upside down, an umbrella could collect a lot of water during a storm. Make sure you empty it frequently into a vessel to settle out particulates such as radiation from Fukushima. Rainwater is still the best for cleanliness.

5 Shelter
     An umbrella could be built big enough to pop up in an emergency or even for camping. Remember the old umbrella tents? These would have the center pole and ribs ready to go. Remember to stake well.

6 Yurts
    Every yurt I've ever seen has a central opening. In sudden showers or prolonged storms you could simply pop open your megabrella over this hole in the roof. Remember to tie a weight to the handle so it does not move.  It could also be on a long pole cut to fit the height exactly. You could still have ventilation by raising the 'brella slightly.  Building a skylight is time consuming and costly.

7    Nearly everyone has heard of or seen the story of the kid jumping off the roof with nothing but an umbrella to break his fall.  Why not do some science and build an umbrella that actually works for that 50 lb kid?

8  The Jeffersonbrella
     Build your umbrella fabric out graphene. Install a fan that runs on batteries in the handle and make a portion of the shaft revolve to accommodate the small fan that folds for cooling and possibly to keep dust at bay and out of the way. Essentially, to keep the sun off the delicate skin of ladies and have a nice breeze to dispel the heat. Stylish.

9 The glow stick umbrella
    Use a glow stick on the shaft which will help you on those dark and stormy nights when you need to make a toilet paper run.

10 For the runway model:
     Use LED lights in a halo affair around her head to fully light up the dress she is wearing by using a tiny spotlight LED fed by a battery pack.

11 An umbrella lit with those tiny LEDs at the spoke ends with batteries in the handle for safety lighting.

12. Everyone's big on robots now. Why not a robot who grows food for humans? We already have most of the hardware in place. It is the technological will of scientists to realize the benefits and cost reductions of a completely automated farm tended by robotics and computers. Why you could have flying drones for water monitoring or planting seeds. Tending row after row of vegetables would be no problem for a robot specifically programmed to perform a variety of functions at each plant all guided by the astute eye of the master farmer watching at many levels and tending to the broken bot when needed.        

   Literally arming a robot with a variety of tools would make multitasking a robot possible.            

       Spreading fertilizer a problem? Not for a robot! Applying pesticides? Heaven forbid if you still need them, but a robot could work at all hours, in most weather situations, blowing or not. Hot and cold makes no difference to a bot.

      Science and DARPA need to catch up some and at least apply designs to farming production. 

            

     Then there is tree planting tht could be done effectively by a flying drone programmed to pick the most ideal site. Then land and dibble a hole.   A rotating drum of tree sprouts could then drop the plant and tamp the dirt a little before flying on to its next spot it has already chosen.

      Lifeguarding could be improved with drones dropping life rings to distressed swimmers. They could be powerful enough to drop a line so that exhausted swimmers could be pulled ashore.

13

  In keeping in the spirit of clearness, why not perfect a clear wide brimmed rain hat? 

My ideas are endless

Medical Suggestions

Decubitus is a real problem with long term patients. Simply getting them off their backsides with a small donut of air or gel, sized for that custom fit would be a suitable solution. Not too high but just right to suspend the decube so that air circulates using a nasal cannula to feed oxygen to the area. First to dry it out, second to stimulate healing.

       It is well known that bariatric oxygen (under pressure) will speed up the healing process in diabetics. You can then attack the problem using the newer class of antibiotics internally. You can contact Dr Tabra about his use of the bariatric chamber to heal diabetic ulcers.

Re: Frank Tabra M.D.
Straub Clinic Honolulu

    In our meetings to group study Anatomy and Physiology many ideas were floated by everyone with no criticism. One of these ideas was perfecting a capsule to emit ultraviolet light at the proper intensity and wavelength to reduce the viral load within the body. After all, butcher shops use ultraviolet light to sterilize the surfaces. This is completely feasible for the human body, without doing harm.
     What is neurotransmitter replacement therapy?   Rebuilding the brains' ability to reload neurotransmitters that have become depleted over time.  This is done through diet and vitamin therapy. It works!

 Artificial skin.
    Take all the components of skin. All the proteins, collagen and fluids necessary to make the building blocks for skin. Take all of these and form a liquefied gel latticework so that the graft has all the nutrients right there to be utilized to close the wound. Remember to type the blood for compatibility.

       Skin grafts could be enhanced by simply cutting diamond shaped slits in the graft to increase the coverage area.
     We have developed microwave energy sufficient to melt computer components. Now, advance the idea to cause gunpowder to explode prior to discharge from a weapon. Imagine how this would change the course of a war.   Most if not, all weaponry could be destroyed in place before a war.
      Wind turbines have many uses. A kite-like turbine that tumbles in the jet stream attached to a balloon so that it drifts with the jet stream creating electricity as it follows the currents of air.  The electricity could be converted into microwaves and beamed earthward at various receiving stations worldwide to be reconverted into usable electricity.  

    Why not simply capture lightning in a similar way?  One word, capacitors...

     I've had sciatica all my life. The pain never stops. I've been burdened with this problem, I finally decided it is a simple mechanical problem with a solution. In this age of plastics, why not sleeve the nerve that is being impinged upon with  plastic?   Without cutting the nerve, simply wrap a split tube of plastic around the nerve in sort of a spiral because this would thread easier therefore less potential damage to this very sensitive region.   Then with heat or infrared red light to fuse the edges together so it forms a continuous tube configured into any angle. It could be anchored within the vertebra with tiny barbs so it doesn't work itself loose. 

      This device requires minor surgery but not as invasive as some back surgeries I've seen for the same problem. In those cases, it was the scraping and reshaping but creating no real protection for the nerve root. The plastic would cost pennies. The surgery is a considerable sum but easier to tolerate. This device could be called an artificial Mylein Sheath.

Call the lawyer.

     Working with Fiberglass, one is bound for an itchy and uncomfortable time for a few days with the stuff getting into your eyes and lungs, as well as, your skin.  Take a desposible credit card into the shower.  After soaping up really good begin scraping your skin really well with the card. It will remove most of the imbedded fibers.   The eyes and lungs will eventually clear. This will teach you a lesson about wearing eye protection, a respirator and desposible overalls will save you many uncomfortable days.

Fijian Sea Snakes

     I flew to Fiji to help repair the Temple that had been burned. It was already done by the time I got there.    Life was handing me lemons again, so I did what comes natural.  I made lemonade. 

       I flew to Vanua Levu which is the larger of the two main islands.  I stayed with an Indian family in Ba town on Viti Levu drinking kava until I itched which is a symptom of OD. These folks were my contacts.

     I found my way to the Nag Temple which means snake when I was on Vanua Levu near the village of Matani Wai.  I met a Fijian bushman complete with an ironwood spear sharpened at both ends.  He said he did not know whether to run me through or invite me to tea. This wild Bushman took me to a cave that has etchings from the very first settlers in Fiji.  All I had was my lighter to see our way.  

     There were many etchings on the walls that must have been centuries old.  My lighter finally gave out.  We had to feel our way along the walls of this darkened tunnel that had not seen men for many decades.      

       I visited remote villages.  I took a boat to see one of the most primitive settlements in Fiji.  The village was interesting because they all lived as their ancestors lived which is reed huts and had no lighting save the campfire. They still use the hollowed log with a slit to communicate between villages on Sundays. The talking drums call people to church meetings. It is also the village clock.  It alerts the village to visiting ships and canoes from the other islands.

        I soon found myself in the village of Matani Wai a few miles from Lambasa. The main town on the island of Vanua Levu is Lambasa. In this small village of Matani Wai of about a hundred souls who still depend on the sea for survival. There were young fishermen eager to take me fishing on the reefs and islets offshore.      

         We motored to the reef in the early morning before sunrise.  Seeing clearly underwater is essential for successful spearfishing. The prototypes to the Hawaiian sling spears were invented in the Gilbert Islands. Now, they are made from reinforcing steel used in concrete.        

      It is a thin rod of steel shot through a wooden handle mounted with a bicycle tire tube rubber. It has a filed notch for the bent wire holder and a barb filed near the point. Since I lent these fellas all my dive gear and swim googles, I decided to wait in the boat while they hunted.
        It was picture perfect that day. I soon got restless. Sou Sou Island was just a short walk across the sand bar. I set out to see this seldom visited island. I soon was standing in the cool canopy of coconut palms, I spotted a papaya plant with ripe fruit just waiting for someone like me to pick it. There was even a handy pole close by as though someone knew about this tree and would return. I was hungry and thirsty. I picked up the pole and stepped lightly on the palm fronds surrounding the base of this wonderful looking plant. I positioned myself for that one lucky poke.

     I felt something move next to my foot. Instinctively, I lept back. I had been standing on a twisted mass of ominously colored, black and white striped, sleeping sea snakes which are deadly venomous.  The only thing that might save you is their mouths are so small. They can't bite except on the fingers and toes. My toes were exposed. You are dead in minutes if you get bit.   I made my way back to the skiff to wait for the bruddas of spear fishermen.  I was not hungry or thirsty anymore.

     Soon they appeared with a string of Surgeon fish in tow. Surgeon fish are so called because of the knifelike bone at the tail preventing anything grabbing it by the tail like a hand.  This is evolutionary biology at its best.   The story was they spotted this group of fish the last time they were here. 

       This school of fish retreated to a hollow coral head for safety. The divers had a strategy now that they could see. There were little holes in the coral head just big enough for the spear that they had previously chipped out.   Through these ports, they unleashed a barrage of spears that found their mark. What a bloodbath.  Soon they were able to retrieve their spears and fish. That's when the sharks started smelling blood.  It was time to go.

        We all had a swell dinner that fed the entire village.  I was given the head to eat which is an honor.  The brains of the fish are the most nutrient rich portion of the fish similar to the liver.  I was now in the enviable position of a respected Peace Corps worker.
         For the next few days, I treated all the wounds and injuries amongst the people of Matani Wai. The kids lined up with all sorts of injuries, cuts and bruises.A young couple brought their small child to me. During the night, he had managed to kick his legs outside of the protective mosquito net. His legs were swollen and infected. It was beyond my scope to treat this massive infection.  Of course, I tried a bath of Hydrogen Peroxide to no real effect except for his profound screaming.  We loaded the family on the bus to the hospital in Lambasa. 

      On arrival, there were many people sitting on the floor in various states of disrepair. I finally found a doctor and asked her to look at the baby. She was appalled by the extent of infection and started drip of antibiotics immediately. The baby responded. Medical care is free to the Fijians provided by Australian Medical students and interns. 

     On the way back, I met this women with a small boy in tow. She had a scarf tucked into her sleeve hiding her hand. Curious, I asked to see what was wrong since I was now the only medical personnel for miles around. There was no hand. She had been attacked by her drunken husband in a fit of rage. He nearly killed her with a machete. She barely saved herself but lost a hand in doing so. She asked me for help finding a prosthetic hand.   I looked and looked but never found a tie on rubber hand for her.
     One night, I was asked by a young woman to come with her to a remote island that practices the traditional lifestyle of the natives.  The villagers were living in the woven grass huts of their ancestors.  I wondered if this was a political stance or a natural evolution of a back to the land movement.  Somehow it was working. Everyone seemed happy.
       I traveled around the island just looking at the natural wonders.  I came upon the floating lands which is simply land floating on a lake. How it got to be land is extraordinary. Over time plants would grow to together in a weave of grasses and soils that continued to grow on top of each other until they eventually became separated from land.   You could stand upon these islands of growth and bounce up and down as if on a mattress.        What stimulated this growth was the quest for sunlight in abundance in the middle of the lake.
      I spent the night with my guide's family living in the traditional way. It was a rare moment to be with Fijians who sought the company of Westerners.   I was invited to go to church Sunday.  I left my belongings in a safe place or so I thought.  Upon return, I found someone had rifled through my butt bag and stole the 50 dollars I had in cash as emergency escape money.  There are thieves everywhere always looking for that opportunity. The money was used to buy liquor. Back to Nowhere Soon 

Indralaya

     Indralaya is the Theosophical Camp along the western shore of Eastsound on the mythical Isle of Orcas.  I found my way there through friends that were like minded in my belief system. Since I knew how to be a member of a educational organization, it was a beneficial find at that time.  My heart was broken and I needed time to heal.

        I was given a job for room and board as a camp caretaker.  They actually gave me a complete house with an oil stove. The job consisted of cutting alders for the great fireplace.  

      I got really good with the chainsaw, sledge and maul. The many cabins were remodeled by my hand as they were only occupied in the short summer season by the Theosophists. The lane to the camp needed a great deal of repair so that was the spring work after the winter rains lessened. I spent many long hours hauling road fill to fix those gargantuan potholes that marked the road into Indralaya. I was just doing what I had been trained to do at Sucia & Matia Marine State Park.
    The spring progressed to summer. There were many antique apple trees and Italian plum trees that produced heavily in the summer.   All this fruit was dried and stored for the long winter.             

      Under these profound orchards live hundreds of rabbits that have colonized this particular spot for the free food the orchard provides.                  Many times, I heard the tiny mews of bunnies. The owls prowl the area for easy victims on those full moon nights.   

       When you are dropped off on someone's doorstep like I was, you feel so totally alone and very vulnerable. I was hurting a great deal from my break up with Judith and was feeling all that hurt one feels when abandoning a relationship. 

       It was the best thing to do. Linda came and visited me. She was the only one who actually welcomed me to this new home. She was curious and helpful and wanted to get to know me. She is married to Rolf, a man who is much like me, an orphan of society.

       I liked having my own house and all the vegetarian food I could eat.  I felt finally at home and certainly enjoyed the solitude.  The camp was adjacent to the Fowler acreage.  Bruce Fowler raised sheep and trout.  He was recovering from heart surgery.  He would mount the chaise lounge on his wide porch with that .222 rifle, scoped and loaded. He was waiting for those otters that discovered his fish pond......
     One day, while walking down the lane, I saw something moving on the ground. It was a lamb.  The Ewe had abandoned one of the twins which is common occurrence. It was slowly being absorbed by the ground.  I gathered the poor thing up and made my way to the Fowler ranch house.         Bruce knew exactly what to do.  He turned on the heating pad and laid the thing on it and gave the new born some fluids.  It was just a matter of time before it recovered.  Bruce had a lot of things going on at this magnificent ranch house.  He was recovering from quadruple bypass surgery that takes the great saphenous vein from the leg and turns it into supply arteries to the heart.  He was ordered to stay in bed.
        There was an otter in his fish pond he had spotted the day before through his binocs.   He nailed the critter from his balcony from over 500 yards away with his trusty scoped rifle of small caliber.

        He was expecting a delivery of salmon for his garden that day as well. These were spoiled fish from his sons' fishing boat. They were carefully laid in a dug out portion of this huge garden. So much for doctors orders. Bruce died a few months later. See?  Always do what the doctor ordered.

        I would gather giant kelp to incorporate into the Indralaya raised beds of the Camp garden.  John and I built these in one great push. 

     Kelp has trace minerals that are normally depleted in the yearly gardens and fields of America.  We also built a covered nursery for the fragile tomato starts. It was electrically heated. 

We dried fruit in large cabinets that we built with a squirrel cage fan for ventilation.These were rare vintage apple varieties that were no longer being produced. All the fruit trees were of the antique variety including the Italian plums that cannot be found anymore. We milled up as much of the downed cedar from the old logging days on the island for the raised beds and benches that are found at Camp Indralaya.

     My time off was spent on the Sound. I would study the coastline and watch the dogfish as they swam in the endless circle close to shore. You could see the orange and purple starfish clearly in these waters.          

      My brother came to visit at Indralaya with his family in tow. I took him diving in the frigid waters of the Sound. We did not last long but he did get a look at all the sealife. Cold does not describe the water temperature.

        Because I knew about the wildlife on Orcas, I would organize hikes to the Osprey nest in the remote area of the island. We would all gather early in the morning to begin the hike to the massive nest built on a blown out Douglas fir.  The most interesting thing about these nests is the debris pile at the foot of the tree. It contained all the various foods she fed to her brood. This included fish from the Sound, rodents and other small game. 

   These episodes were so interesting to these folks as they gathered broken egg shells.  The osprey was saying, "there goes the neighborhood."
   I was given complete run of the place since John and Dorothy, the camp directors, went back to the headquarters in Wheaton, Illinois for organizational meetings. For two years I was engaged in this kind of work that produced no income whatsoever on this 72 acre property. The interesting coincidence was Doris Kunz wrote a book about Fairies.  Things were beginning to line up.
      I helped build the library that was so popular. On the opening day, Dhiravamsa himself, came to the Camp to dedicate this new resource for esoteric studies which includes many Buddhist texts that Dhira contributed. The roof was hand split cedar shakes made by me in the Scandinavian style popular on the island of Orcas. This is done using a froe and mallet in the traditional style of the mountains and valleys of Scandinavia.
      We built a climate controlled vault for rare manuscripts and artifacts that needed a pure, clean and cold environment. No expense was spared except for labor costs.  I left soon after John A's heart attack.

Summertime on Orcas!

    During mid June to September the blackberries start coming in. There are huge beds of blackberries along the road to Doe Bay just outside of Olga. The thorns are huge and intimidating. This is not for the casual snacker. The veteran pickers are way ahead of the game. They bring planks that are long enough to reach the center of the blackberry bush.

    Let the pickings begin, but try to remember to bring bandaids for those finger pricks that one inevitably gets.  Suitable containers rule the day.
      Ah, the fun of Orcas in the summertime goes on and on.  Swimming in Cascade Lake is a requirement because it just gets hot.      Jack Blacburn was one of my friends from Indralaya.   He finally moved out to Olga like all the smart people do.   He has the most incredibly gifted children ever to bless this earth especially his daughter. 

      Who, in the fullness of youth had all the charm and beauty a young woman in full bloom could have. Jack told me about the one night in Olga the suitors lined up at his back door to plead for her company.  She skillfully turned away each one with sweet words so she could seek the comfort of her own family. 

    This family somehow understood the role of parents in situations of young love. They tolerated these suitors for sometime. She finally moved to Seattle to wait tables at the Daily Grind Coffee Shop. The beauty queen princess was the island rage for quite awhile. She enjoyed every second of her youth. 

     So many others on the island out there in Olga has a story to be told. Each one is a character in a living novel yet to be written. One day, I will remember everyone eventually so keep reading.

     Orca means death. Really. Orcanus was the Roman god of death. You find these things out after living there for ten years. I can live with that, though. It sort of protects the island from riff raff.

     One year, the musicians moved onto the island.  One fella played the xylophone which had that unique hardwood sound that a carpenter loves.  It was built of many exotic woods carefully assembed by hand over a period of many months.

    The concerts he gave us were astounding a reverberate even today. The stories goes on..... 

The Cooling Power of Mountains

     Mountains have their heads in the clouds and cool air.  If we build elevated tubes in the valleys of these mountains that surround cities like LA, Denver or Mexico City the people would benefit. We can take advantage of the temperature gradient and displace polluted air of these cities with the considerably cooler air of the mountains. Colder air is heavier and would rapidly displace the hot polluted air of cities.

      The exchange of air could take place at night using the temperature gradient to bring that colder, heavier and denser air to displace the de-oxygenated and polluted air which is full of particulate matter. The good life and productivity in these cities would certainly return.
      In other heavily polluted, flatland cities one could build cooling towers that reach up to the colder strata using a tube within a tube to extend the reach. I've seen telescoping antennae that reach high in the sky.           Why not cooling towers built in a similar fashion which could be lowered on bad weather days? Cooling towers could follow the cone shaped design of the nuclear towers of the 60's.
    Why these tubes could be of plastic held open by coils of wire carried aloft by blimps similar to air conditioning ducts that cool pop up events.  Expand on the idea and you could cool entire cities cheaply. Proof of concept is easy and cost effective.
      Pollution is full of corrosives such as sulfuric acid as well as other oxides and carbon. When I first came to the West Coast many years ago, there was none of the carbon on the beaches you see today. This is how fast things change. This passive strategy of lifting these layers of pollution and replacing them with mountain air should be a no brainer.

       The health benefits alone would be staggering. It is good for everyone and a delight. A one time cost managed by the park service could be iniated by a simple tax on heavy polluters.  There is no need to form another entity to manage a passive system.
     The mountains are great reservoirs of solar energy as well. Once the cooling tubes are in place you could mount solar voltaics on top of them away from vandals and wildlife to power periodic duct fans to increase the flow of air to the cities. Any electrical power is good power especially, solar power.
      The payoff would come in the form of appreciation of the educational process that gives our scientists the ability to think innovatively.

Sharks I've Known

      One beautiful day in Hilo, I was just walking around in a rainstorm along the shores of Hilo Bay near a small Japanese Buddhist shrine island with a quaint hand built retainer wall. 

       I had just arrived from the Mainland.  I was eager to experience all that is Hawaii.  I was just goofing off, balancing along this stone wall and very close to the water enjoying the light rain shower. I had the distinct sensation something was watching me.  I glanced over my shoulder to see an 18' shark rolling up on his side eyeballing me.  He could have easily taken me.  No one would have known except for the Japanese tourists passing by in a bus. They witnessed the whole episode.  They were wildly gesturing at the shark. They became very animated trying to warn me of the danger. I just smiled and jumped off the wall. 

       There is no feeling in the world like being hunted to put things in perspective. I felt so small and abused anyway. This particular shark had a bloodline running all the way from his dorsal fin to his tail. Shiver me timbers. I found out later Hilo Bay is filled with sharks which is the reason no one ever swims there.
       In another setting, this time in the Golfo de Dulce in Costa Rica, I was visiting a commune just short of Cape Matapalo called Esmerelda. I took off one morning, to go snorkeling in those clear waters. You can see huge parrot fish as well as many other species. On this day, a Tiger shark of some 13' with the barrel chest which indicates bull came swimming by. I could see clearly the striped markings on this huge fish camouflaging him as he blended in with the wavelets on the surface of the Gulf.  You just quietly start swimming as fast as you humanly can to shore. Luckily this bull was not hungry for tender human flesh. There are plenty of other more delectable dishes at this seafood market for sharks.
        When I was younger we were living close to the Rigolets, which is about the last stop before entering St Tammany Parish. Harrison County in Mississippi was the place of our retreat. The Rigolets is the channel linking Lake Pontchartrain and the Gulf of Mexico. This area is dripping in historical significance.      

       We fished under the Rigolets Bridge for sharks when the tide was running hard on a flood. Using live mullet for bait we engaged a fairly big shark that readily came up. We were in a 16 foot runabout.   He was a few feet longer than the boat.   Just seeing the thing was all I needed.  I cut the line and grateful that he did not get too excited.

     The Rigolets is a special place to catch fish. When the speckled and white trout are running in the Spring you fish the flats just North of the bridge.   You catch fish all morning until the live bait runs out. You come home with a boatload of trout.  One day, Uncle Tony and I caught so many speckled trout that I had to stay up late cleaning all of those fish. I was the help. Tony did nothing but yell. Typical of bosses.

    Not a real Uncle but an Italian Strip Club owner we knew because my Mother was teaching Aunt Marion how to sew on that awesome new sewing machine Tony bought for her.
       In Florida,  during my teen years Aunt Marion drove us to Florida on a vacation to New Symrna Beach to see her sister. We played in the surf with air mattresses until our chests became raw from rubbing on the rubberized canvas.         

     We were being summoned to get out of the water immediately. Not knowing the reason we calmly caught the next series of waves to the beach. They told us later we were being trailed by a rather large shark. I did not go swimming again for many days because of this.
      There were many encounters with sharks in the Pacific, since every lagoon is filled with black tipped and the larger white tipped sharks. The heat of the day drives them deeper in the lagoons. Swimming in these island lagoons for pleasure is risking an encounter unless you are shark wise and certain.

     I once bought a T shirt with a logo that said Street Shark. This is how Hawaii appeared to me for many years. I was not born a cynic but became one because this was reality in my view.   I wore the shirt as a warning to tourists to be aware of their surroundings. 

   The purse snatchers ride two to the motorbike. When they see a mark close to the street they whiz by and hook the purse strap.  Unless you are supergirl, you lose everything.
        Some of the largest sharks I've seen have been when I was lolling around in the surfline. In California near Oceanside, there is a power plant.  A little hidden beach right beyond the slough that leads into the marshland. I should have been paying more attention but I was super tired from the12 hour shift at Scripps.

      I'd go there after work at the hospital. Night shift paid better so that's the reason I worked the graveyard shift.  Fewer supervisors was the other reason. 

     I was boogie boarding along the break about dawn which is feeding time for sharks.  It was one of those fabulous Spring mornings. Spring is also the time of spawning in these coastal marshes. There was a huge swirl of water not ten feet away. Lucky for me this Great White was hungry for spawn rather than seal which what I looked like in the black wet suit and fins.

       I quickly made my way to shore. It took some time to completely rationalize this.  How infinitely lucky I was not to have been victimized by the natural world.
     The larger pelagic sharks generally keep their distance except when hunting for food. They come in close to seal rookeries hoping to find an orphan or an elderly straggler.  The attack is sudden and brutal. You can see this on You Tube if you get interested in shark attacks around the world.

They told me to go fly a kite

      I had the habit of hearing things literally spoken not knowing the true meaning behind the words. You know the old expressions like go 'soak your head' and that sort of thing?  I decided to really find out what kind of kites would be most useful to the seaman. I started designing specialty kites. Go fly a kite.
    I thought of a simple kite hooked to a dynamo which reverses when at the end of its tether.  The strain is steady. It will generate electrical energy which could be stored on sailing vessels. There is always a great need for stored electricity on board a sailing vessel.      

     You can see those power kites at the beach swooping and soaring with the guy on the controls fighting to control the thing wirh both hands and feet involved. It is a form of strengthening exercise.              Translate that power into mechanical energy which is easily converted to electricity and you have a useful supply of electricity. 

      A turbine or a squirrel cage kite would serve that purpose just as easily.   Just deck mount an alternator in a plastic box on the fantail and spin the thing with a flywheel powered by the constant tug of a kite.
      The same could be done at sea to gather fresh water with a kite. Many times, I sailed through squalls which unloads a tremendous amount of fresh water in a few brief minutes. The sailors way is to collect this water with the use of the mainsail at the goose neck.  A simple garden hose conveys the pure liquid to the holding tanks.  

       A giant kite that drains the splash off the surface into a flexible tube as part of the kite string or twine could be designed. It would have to deal with heavy loads of water. The  benefit is faster, cleaner, less saltier drinking water delivered directly to the ship's tanks.
    We used to light the farm at night with a Pelton wheel and a hose in stream bed which provided the outfall to the wheel. It was a fairly steady flow year round on the Big Island of Hawaii.  The energy was not enough to turn a drill motor but it did provide light at night.

      We used a Pelton wheel which is a perfectly balanced flywheel mounted with spoon-like appendages on the outer edge of the wheel. You would start the spin and the water pressure was enough to keep it going all night   It was simply a quiet way to have small reading lights. Generators are noisy beasts. Sealed bearings work best for the Pelton wheel.
     Flywheels store a great deal of potential energy. If set up in the correct manner, I've seen them in rivers being turned by the current as the water flows past. The maintenance is a small consideration for a very efficient use of water power. 

      There is also a device called a two stage pump which pumps water uphill without any expenditure of energy. This is done by the shifting weight of the water between the two chambers thus the two stage description. This was used by gold miners during the 

goldrush years. You can look up this marvelous device on Wikipedia. Whatever works is my take on things.

There she is!

Along comes the golden one
beautiful and fair
Making her way through all
those scenes we do share

Finding each other
in the stark, evening cold
Touching and sharing
thoughts that are bold

A love made in heaven
For her he would swim
Many miles to see if
her love he can win

A dream it is witnessed
A dream it is made
Not from the ashes
Or fires in the glade

Softly she nurtures
softly she lands
Into his arms now part of his plan
 holding her close for as long as he can

Summer's end will come soon
as they in turning to light
the candle of love
burning so bright

More ideas

       Sailing has been my favorite pastime and smiling has been a fun thing for me as well. Anything with water has been fascinating and healing. Maybe it's because I have Cardinal water signs in my astrological chart. My Mother says I've been all wet but that is neither here nor there. 

      Kite flying is the most wonderful thing you can do with air. After awhile, one gets a new idea that just might work.  How about generating electricity with a turbine kite in a lengthwise configuration? The torque would be awesome. Just hook one up to an alternator while sailing and watch it turn, reel it in then let it fly. Stand back Franklin, the kid's been thinking. 

      When I was a boy, we made our own kites out of plastic sheeting.  This gave us a slight advantage during kite fights. To win a kite fight, we would inbed razor blades in the cross tree that would scred an opponent. On the tail, we would glue broken glass that would cut the taut kite string. 
        I like to jump from idea to idea. Why not extract all the B-cells, antibodies, WBC's and  anything good from whole blood then concentrate it? Transfuse it to immunodeficient individuals so that the healing process is speeded up. Is anybody out there?
       The perpetual motion machines have never been proven to work. That was the old days when friction slowed things up. I believe that the technology has advanced to the point where perpetual motion is acheivable. If this thing could draw, I'd show you.       

       Suspended between two magnets of opposite poles is another magnet. Now turn this magnet using a ring of magnets that alternate positive/negative so that the influence is equal and there you have it; perpetual motion.
         I think I am a visionary. I see laminated cardboard as the wave of the future in housing and furniture. The idea is fairly simple. Take recycled cardboard and laminate them together simply by gluing them in stacks and thicknesses of different dimensions. Shaping them is a simple matter using a band saw and templates. a lot of cheap varnish or acrylic for finishing. Then start building walls and roofs.  Onward and upward. The insulation would be tremendous with so many air pockets.
         Moving right along. Black ceramic tiles in the bottom of the swimming pool might pick up enough sunlight to heat the water.         Mirrors focused on a water tower to heat the water and cut expensive heating of water for the community. Nobody likes to think community anymore.
      Did I ever mention my design to clean out intestinal blockages? Take a bit shaped like an oil well bit only of plastic. Put it on a sigmoidoscope that has a tube attached then pass it through a centering balloon so you only drill the blockage. After making the hole in the mass, insert another angioplasty-type balloon and inflate it thus breaking the blockage in two. Then infiltrate this mass with glycol or glycerin to further weaken and lubricate it. A well known fact from the past is olive oil is the cure for constipation. Ask any Italian.

        Insert a puller similar to the grabber a mechanic uses to retrieve a dropped bolt only reverse the prongs of plastic so they lodge in the mass and not tissue! All this could be done with a sphincter dilation. Piece of cake. Call the lawyer.

       Transporting natural gas in this new world of ours could be done by Dirigible.  Since this is a gas just a little bit heavier than air, one could partially fill a helium blimp and deliver it to the colder regions during the winter. It is just a matter of distribution then. No need for giant ocean tankers that present a huge risk to coastal communities.
      I want to salvage a barge for next to nothing. Reconditioning it to make it seaworthy would be easier than building it from scratch. Then step a main mast with square rigged sails and lee boards for direction and some sort of strong rudder. A long pole with a wooden paddle would give you the leverage you need for steerage.

     Then build yurts or huts in a circle. Put in a well in the center of the barge to the ocean. Install sideboards to get close to the water so one can fish or just laze your way through life.

     To pay for it all, bring guests aboard for some sort of reason. Expedition, recreation or tour of the oceans would be the bait. Seeing whales and dolphins are popular now. Then set sail for the currents of the world so that the trip seemed planned.
       Catching rainwater will be the real reason to embark on a journey to the Horse Latitudes. Moving from squall to squall, filling those blue barrels with unpolluted rainwater which can be collected in the sails and funneled down below decks. There is so much water released by these storms you could fill your tanks in one squall.  When the side of the thunderhead collapses into rainwater it is truly impressive. A freshwater shower is remarkable at sea.  Always have a bar of soap handy for such an occasion.

      Simply bottling water on the spot would be advantageous since once you are in those Latitudes, there is no wind.  One could arrange meetings with vessels that could then carry these newly bottled waters to market. Designing a label that captures the beauty of these areas emphasizing the incredible sunsets could be the moniker that sells the product.
     Consider this. Releasing a stream of bubbles along the keel to enhance slippage through the water. It has been shown this works quite well.
    For all you fashion freaks out there, how about a model on the runway wearing a spotlight over her head to light up her outfit, however comical it may be. The absurdity of this might be taken seriously by vehement fashion designers who have nothing to show off their egocentricity. Maybe a thin stiff wire shaped into a headband with a high intensity light flooding the runway to prevent falls first of all, and possibly encourage safety in the older people with weak eyesight who could benefit from a well designed device.

The Lighted Umbrella

In the handle of the umbrella one could make a place for batteries for the LED lights that turn on either by opening or simple switch. I would design this umbrella for the Hotel Industry in New York.  The doorman at ritzy apartments who open the cab or car doors would hold the lighted umbrella over the head of the patron. In doing so, there would be no missed steps since there is ample light to guide your way.  It is a bit over the top, but late at night in a snowstorm or rain the advantage would be certainly in your favor as you make your way over the red carpet to the safety and security of the building. There is nothing more glamorous than to arrive in style with a well lighted pathway guiding you to your next engagement.
      Speaking about electricity brings, back memories and inventions I passed on. I thought I could use lightning to change criminals into good citizens. In my younger days, I envisioned a copper tubular pyramid build on the roof of the Parish Prison in New Orleans which housed some of the most vicious offenders in the world. This was a system built with copper tubing big enough for a man to sit in built on an rubber mat. There would be a lightning rod at its pinnacle.

       The incorrigible criminal would sit in a wooden chair during a thunderstorm until the inevitable happened. The lightning would channel around him never touching him. The sheer terror would be an awesome thing for anyone to endure. It would be similar to the shock treatments in psychiatric hospitals. I later realized this would be condemned as a form of torture. My guess is watching those Frankenstein movies late at night in my youth inspired this idea.

Waldron Island

      Not many people even know about Waldron. There is but one road that leads inland. If you enjoy the stillness and lifestyle of genuinely farming by hand, you will enjoy Waldron. You really need to be invited by one of the residents.                  There is no ferry service. Finding your way without a sponsor is asking for trouble since Waldron is mostly owned by people devoted to education and farming. There are many Waldronite people at Fairhaven College which is how I got there. I also knew Steve H. who invited me to visit his little parcel of land.

         One of my professors had a small place where he raised a daughter.  She is a friend of mine. She is so full of life and always had a hug for me. Skinny and living too fast for her own good she is similar to other Fairhaven women I knew.

      Paul is a talented artist. He taught a class on Taoism which was so inspiring to me. I turned in a blank piece of paper as my final on Taoism. He was not amused though, and had me write out my thoughts.  I could visit him anytime I wanted.  

      Mike B. is another professor of mine who built a cabin on Waldron. I was invited to visit. All of these men and women left huge impressions on me. Partly because they were so devoted to family life and set a good lifestyle example for students.
        Many of the Waldron farmers grew onions and garlic. The giant elephant garlic are tied up in braids just like the pioneers of old had done. The long braids of garlic brought top dollar at Pike St. Market in Seattle on Saturdays.            

       Dried herbs and flowers are a Waldron specialty.  Peppermint and Spearmint are grown near hand dug ponds which produce great thickets that smell wonderful on hot summer days.   

       Raspberries are easy to start. Simply ask a farmer if you can help thin the raspberries collecting the shoots as you go. Just jam the shoots into the fertile, prepared soil. Soon you will have the pleasure of fresh and tangy raspberries growing in your garden.       

           If I could go back in time Waldron is where I would homestead. Alas, I was too poor for even a small parcel like Steve's.
Steve was a wonderfully independent soul about my age.           

      He gave me a seized up Seagull outboard motor that I got going. These outboards were made famous during the Normandy invasion because of their reliability. This was now the auxiliary for Almageist, my little live aboard sailboat. I bought this tiny Picaroon in a moment of compassion for Alan and his hungry and desperate family of 4. Alan had contracted the big C and had the incision to prove it. They opened him up from sternum to his balls searching for every trace of cancer. They said he was clear of it but you never really know. 

      I eventually sold the boat after overhauling her and fixing her leaks.  I got less than I paid for the little ship. Go figure. The Zen principle of losing and losing was easier to follow on Orcas than anywhere else.   Life is about losing and losing.
      I signed on for work at the Westsound Boatyard that summer. Alan was a bottom painter and did the bright work so at his behest, I took the job. This was not what I expected when doing boat work, though. The job I was given at first, was cleaning the toilets while the real boat work was using the power washer to cut off the growth from ships. That work fell to the more experienced hands. I also installed the sacrificial zincs which keep the boat from corroding.

       All this is part of the annual maintenance boats undergo if in saltwater.  I got to drive the tractor parking boat trailers in the field close by. Soon though, I moved to Deer Harbor Boat Works.
      Mike D. was a North Dakota farmer's boy with a family in tow. He had to work hard to support his little girls in the way of their Mother's lifestyle. Mike also worked his crews hard. By now, I was fit enough for heavy work. 

     I was chosen to be the plumbing guy for Mike's other business. Rain collection is sometimes the only way to stockpile water on Orcas. Mike had designed a system using galvanized silos 10' in diameter from the Plains States. This is a way to impound rainwater that falls heavily In the winter months on the San Juan Islands. He called his business Down Island setting up rain catchments all the way to the Bahamas and the Lesser Antilles.
     This is what the Pacific Northwest is famous for. The rain sometimes does not stop for days and days. By simply lining these structures with vinyl which is welded to a custom fit and built to last you have a rain storage unit.       

     These things were just a giant bladder of heavy plastic. You then build a shed-like affair on top with a rain gutter to channel the water. One could collect a great deal of rain over the winter. All I had to do was set valves through the vinyl and steel.  Not hard at all.
      One day he wanted me to deliver three huge well tiles to a site. He gave me the keys to the truck and trailer loaded with these monstrosities.  There was one catch. I had to take them to San Juan Island by ferry. All well and good. 

    The ferry pulled up but the crewman wanted me to back this rig onto the ferry. This is very difficult to do in a four wheel drive truck with a giant trailer loaded with cement tiles.  I had to pull up many times. I finally got the thing positioned.  

    The skipper was irate. He was now off schedule. I felt like putting a towel over my head to hide my shame.  My philosophy is and was to hope for the best but expect the worst in all matters.

Pearly River

       I spent my days camping at Sacred Rocks Campground when I returned to the States after the Central American trip, I finally called a friend that I worked with for two years. I asked for his help finding a place to stay while my shoulder healed. He told me to contact his brother as I might be able to stay with him. These brothers were wilderness oriented.  I could expect to find some common ground.
       It took many days for my shoulder to heal. I would go hiking at the State Park that was just outside of Santee. My days consisted of explorations early in the morning on the many trails that lace the area. One Spring morning I was coming back to my car when I spied a Pacific Western Diamondback. 

         She was stretched out in the bright warming sun getting recharged for another California day. I was lucky to have seen her before she saw me.  

       Being rare and beautiful is no excuse. She was still blocking my way.  I crouched down.  I waited a few minutes then picked up a tiny pebble and shot it like a marble. It landed close to her head.  She turned and fled, vibrating her whole body and rattling as she retreated to the safety of the scrub and sage that characterizes the area.                   Danger lurks at every step of the way. Until you see a snakebite you have no idea how painful they are. Death could be a mercy in some cases.

    This Park has everything. The trails reach high above the Pacific to the lower river basin that leads to a dam built in the 30's to store water. One could do a Master's thesis on the biodiversity that this little oasis held.

    Deadly Nightshade was in abundance.  The white trumpet shaped flowers announce the seriousness of these plants. This relative of the potato and tomato family can kill you.  I have been told many times, that if you stop eating potatoes and tomato products your arthritis will subside.  It took me many months abstinence from these poisons to finally see the benefits of this wisdom. 

      There is a alkaloid that stimulates the immune system in these types of foods from the deadly nightshade family of plants to irritate and deposit calcium as a defense. These poisons reside in the synovial fluid of the joints. This ultimately leads to many types of arthritis. This is the easiest fix I know. Stop eating from the Deadly Nightshade Family of Plants.

          During my time working at Scripps which slowly turned into two years, I had many dreams that were significant. The one dream that was so vivid was sort of like a musical.  There were young women singing the chorus which went like this:
     Come on down to the Pearly River
     We gonna have a good time yeah (clap)
    Come on down to the Pearly River
    We gonna dance and barbecue with Bear

    Come on down to the Pearly River
Bring your Momma and Papa yeah
    Come on down to the Pearly River
You will find all your friends are there

    Come on down to the Pearly River
Bring that old rocking chair
  Rest and smile awhile
just take your time by the cool cool River there

There is a river in Mississippi named Pearl River. Its one of those slow moving southern rivers that attract families from afar to fish and swim.  There must have been revival meetings in the area that were popular back in the day. 

      Who knows where this dream came from? The song moves slowly ending with a clap at the end of each line just so you get an idea of the tempo.  It was so much fun.
      Then I had another very vivid dream about Mother Mary. She wanted me to visit her at a particular address that she gave me.  It was not that far away. Trying to remember that address confounded me for sometime afterwards. Sunnyvale was the name of the community but the address eluded me. Besides, how do you write a number down in a dream? 

       In the same dream Prabhupada appears like one of those inflatable advertisements blowing and waving his arms that you see in front of Auto Parts stores.

      Much of Oceanside turns into military housing for military orphans, which is a nightmare in itself. Absolutely no mercy for my woes. 

       The place is swarming with addicts and drunks. The only good thing is the train to LA which is not that good. Any escape is a good escape. Even if it leads to more pain. My pains were just beginning. Things were piling up in my life.                             Strangers,  perfect strangers, treated me like they knew me except I did not know or care to know them. That was the longest winter I've ever spent anywhere and the most inhospitable place I know of in Califorina.  

       There was a young couple living  a few doors down. In their youthful indiscretion they became addicted to cocaine which is very easy to do. It takes just one use to become enamored and addicted.  I am easily intimidated by druggies since I do have psychic abilities to some extent.
      I have no inclination to develop this further as it would only lead to more misunderstandings and regret. Yet nightly,  they would interfere with my sleep in this cold and dismal environment. I had to drive to work and being unrested made for many a harrowing drive.      

      One day, the cops found her abandoned car and traced it back to this address. Soon there was a flood of police asking neighbors of her whereabouts.   No one knew her or really cared. She suddenly showed up.  Many druggies lose their lives in a similar fashion.

      I worked in the hospitals so I saw  this firsthand.  It was not long before I abandoned Oceanside, leaving my deposit behind as usual.  After so many tries in so many communities, I had enough.  I quit the hospital and home care routine and started thinking about fleeing to Nowhere Soon. Such is life. 

      I came away with my faith restored and confident Mother Mary was carefully watching over me. She was guiding me now as my thoughts turned to driving South along the Mexican coastline.  I finally stopped going South when I could not cross the Darian region of Panama.  I would have driven all the way to Terra Del Fuego.

 

Ahoy! Sailing Away?

     On a long passage one sits and reflects, cooks and sleeps, watches and interprets everything. Out on the ocean, you are involved with the immense powers of the ocean. Its currents and seas all conspiring against your tiny sailboat no matter what size she is. 

     The ocean is so much bigger than you. Sailors pray this way. 'O God, your ocean is so big and my boat so small, please have Mercy upon me.'           Even then, it is completely up to you whether you have prepared well enough. What the ocean is capable of is really beyond belief until you experience the awesome power of the mighty seas.   My motto:  Never turn your back on the ocean. She will eat you.
       Yes, the boat is supposed to ride ON the ocean but on occasion the ocean has a different agenda. Many a sailboat has been boarded by following seas or broached by a rogue wave in the night.  Having a ship with lots of free board helps with that. Being a lot higher than the surface helps in other ways.             The humidity is lessened so you don't sweat as much. Picking a sailboat with a canoe stern helps. Sometimes, the design calls for a tumble home which is fairly descriptive. A square stern on a ship means you must have a continuous forward motion, always looking over your shoulder for following seas that normally would run underneath you.

     Many a ship has been flooded because of exhaust ports left open which is a primary weakness. Any through hull fitting is a place for the ocean to do its corrosive best to get in the boat. You are never safe; rust never sleeps.
         But...if you prepared well and learned your lessons early, sailing turns into a metaphor for your life. Constant vigilance brings the supreme reward that few men can actually savor. Have pity on the shore bound. The ocean won't have that pity for you.

        The energy of the ocean illustrates that we have no energy shortage. All we lack is the proper understanding of the way to extract this energy. The sailboat itself shows that there is ample energy.        

      The wind moves the boat. It even moves against the wind which to many, an inexplicable phenomena. A simple towed turbine would generate enough electricity to power the boat, home and electric car should anyone ever pursue that dream. 

       The wind also could generate energy with the design of a squirrel cage kite,  It would be possible to tow this kite astern with miniature generators at the hubs of the kite similar to bicycle light generators to trickle charge a ship's batteries continuously.
         There is no finer place to go fly a kite. I've been told that many times by friends and enemies alike. If you equipped that kite with solar voltaics, you would have sourced the essence of energy which is the sun itself.              Even the clouds at sea hold potential energy in the form of rain. Rain at sea is the clearest, cleanest drinking water ever to be found on earth.

      Collecting squall water is easy enough. The sail is your catchment funnel. It is simply a matter of channeling the water to your holding tanks with a garden hose  mounted in a funnel at the goose neck which is the juncture of the mast and boom. With a little planning this becomes a joy when sailing in the tropics.
       Go to YouTube and watch some sailing videos. They are easiest to find and very educational for the new sailor. You might be shocked at how much investment it takes to get on the water.  Some folks find this to be after they have spent themselves out that sailing is not something they want to continue with. You need to decide the merits even before you develop an eye for expensive boats that have a huge upkeep bill as well. One could start by leasing a yacht, complete with skipper and crew in places like Tonga or the Virgin Isles in the Caribbean. 

      It might come as an awakening that quietness is not the norm in anchorages. When rowdies control your rest,  it is very difficult to get others too drunk or high on dope for their own good to respect your space.  Sound travels well over the water so everyone can hear your business even when speaking in a whisper.  The only relief is earplugs or change your anchorage. That is like cutting off your nose to spite your face. Sometimes you just have to live with it.                   

    Profanity is the norm not the exception.  I found more drunk sailors at sea than in bars on the shore. Ahh...the freedom of the open ocean. Drinks anyone?
       There are many free publications that will run an ad. You can find them easily in Chandleries and Marinas. These monthly publications list crew positions and is free advertisement for sailors to find yachts heading out on the outward leg.  You need to be able to be contacted easily since most skippers have no patience with inexperienced crew although some are willing to train you. You need to be able bodied and have no visible fear showing.   Needless to say, a good attitude helps. Don't expect to get paid.  You might have to share in the costs of food. If they like you, that's half the battle.  You are there to stand watch and let them sleep.
     But if you love the taste of salt air which migrates to your blood and your brain then sailing could be the thing that completes you. I once found a book in a Maritime Yacht Store.This was in a Chandlery that encouraged hitchhiking on the ocean. I did that for years in the South Pacific and found many pleasurable sails that way. 

      I got to go to different countries with various sailing families. Many will take you as crew with no pay. However, being part of the crew means you must stand watch, usually at night. Most likely, it will be the early morning watch when underway.  You must sacrifice your personal well being to fit in like a crew member.
      Getting paid for yacht work requires effort starting in the boatyards.  Skippers might enjoy your company and put you to work for a few days until they grow tired of you. Be prepared for rejection especially, if you don't drink or have skills. Judge not lest ye be judged.            You are always at the mercy of the High Court of the Sea. A Captain is your God during a voyage.   If you can adjust to that then long distance sailing is a pleasure. Ahoy mate!