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.