Le Menagerie Wing on Wing under the Queen Isabella Memorial causeway
Monday, April 25, 2005
Wind on the Water
Bueno Bye and Night Magic. Le Menageire is still sliding under the causeway underpass....
Tuesday, April 19, 2005
Mileage on the Odometer, Water under the Keel
I woke up this morning staring 50 full in the face. I know it's a monument birthday, a milestone, but somehow it doesn't seem a whole lot different than turning over 50 miles on the odometer of my bike after I turn it back to zero....only this time I can' t turn it back to zero. So, I think it's more like 50 miles an hour, just a gentle cruise with the wind in your face....Or maybe it's like sailing my boat, just slipping along to familiar or unfamiliar places. Now it's just the journey that matters. When I was young(er) I always had in the back of my mind the notion that "when I'm young again.....", but in the past couple of years this notion has faded, replaced by a sense of just gliding over the water, trying to avoid the shallow and sandbars, but nonetheless learning for each and every one that you might get hung up on .
There was no revelation following the tolling of the bells of my birth hour, or enhancement of insight, I don't even think any of my hair went grey(er), or I acquired any new wrinkles.
No, today I don't feel maudlin or especially reflective, just thankful to be here. All the cliches, like, "if I'd have known I was gonna live this long, I would've taken better care of myself", just go out the window, and I keep riding down the path. Although I'm certainly not going to score highly on the list of "he who dies with the most toys wins" mentality, I do have friends and family who've made this trip more than worthwhile, so the material things take a distant back seat. And living here is like living in the pages of a Steinbeck novel. I think that's the way it is with most coastal communities, and I guess I'm just another character.
So what's next? Well, just because I turned fifty doesn't mean any dreams went out the window too. I still want to circumnavigate the Gulf and near Caribbean, I want to take a monumental road trip or two, maybe visit some places I've never been. But for right now, I plan on continuing sailing, surfing, riding, diving, fishing, flying kites, taking care of business, exploring the islands in my life, eating at D' Pizza Joint, drinking a little beer (maybe a little rum too....), enjoying days like today, when the air smells like the sea, and you can hear the waves crashing on the shoreline and all of the other things that make up this crazy patchwork collage that I call my life. Mostly I plan on enjoying the journey with my family and friends....
There was no revelation following the tolling of the bells of my birth hour, or enhancement of insight, I don't even think any of my hair went grey(er), or I acquired any new wrinkles.
No, today I don't feel maudlin or especially reflective, just thankful to be here. All the cliches, like, "if I'd have known I was gonna live this long, I would've taken better care of myself", just go out the window, and I keep riding down the path. Although I'm certainly not going to score highly on the list of "he who dies with the most toys wins" mentality, I do have friends and family who've made this trip more than worthwhile, so the material things take a distant back seat. And living here is like living in the pages of a Steinbeck novel. I think that's the way it is with most coastal communities, and I guess I'm just another character.
So what's next? Well, just because I turned fifty doesn't mean any dreams went out the window too. I still want to circumnavigate the Gulf and near Caribbean, I want to take a monumental road trip or two, maybe visit some places I've never been. But for right now, I plan on continuing sailing, surfing, riding, diving, fishing, flying kites, taking care of business, exploring the islands in my life, eating at D' Pizza Joint, drinking a little beer (maybe a little rum too....), enjoying days like today, when the air smells like the sea, and you can hear the waves crashing on the shoreline and all of the other things that make up this crazy patchwork collage that I call my life. Mostly I plan on enjoying the journey with my family and friends....
Monday, April 18, 2005
It's the end of the world, as We know it
It's the end of the world as we know it
(I wanna spend some time alone)
It's the end of the world as we know it
(I wanna spend some time alone)
It's the end of the world as we know it
(I wanna spend some time alone)
-And I feel fine
REM
(I wanna spend some time alone)
It's the end of the world as we know it
(I wanna spend some time alone)
It's the end of the world as we know it
(I wanna spend some time alone)
-And I feel fine
REM
Tuesday, April 12, 2005
More Bitches with the Media
Damn. I thought yesterday when I was talking with Lily K. that I was off the record. I've know Lilly since she was a little kid, just starting off surfing. Now she's a wold class surfer, and a sponsored one at that. She also works for the Port Isabel free press as a journalist. I've talked to her a couple of times in the past, as a matter of good relations, but this is about the second or third time that she's blindsided me with commentary. In the above article, she quotes me as saying that "it probably was a shark"...what I actually said was "it might've, it could've been a shark", there's just no way to tell, but the chances are fairly decent, since they are one of the primary large fish which inhabit our nearshore waters. From now on I guess I'll have to refer her to the director on all matters. It was my fault anyway.
I learned of the alleged shark attack on Satrurday when my son alerted me to it through the coconut telegraph, and that Lilly had first hand information, so I told him to have her call me since we try and keep record here at the lab to furnish the International Shark Files, maybe we could get in touch with the guy and have him come in and fill out a report. So Lily called me yesterday, and I figured we were speaking off record. Dummy me.
This is the first documented shark attack here in lots of years, and I suspect that it was (and she quoted me OK on this one) a case of mistaken identity. I'm certainly no shark expert, but I have read enough concerning their behavior, (and I watch Discovery channel too) so I am guessing that his foot looked like a mullet, Judging from the bite radius, it certainly looks like a shark. However, my own area of expertise lies in Marine ecology, specifically micro-organisms, and mostly these days I am involved in things like seagrass surveys, algae culture and tunicates, a far cry from apex predators....
Hope that I can slide through this media faux-pas without stirring up too big a wave. I realize that the county wants to downplay an event like this (and I hope it is an isolated one), and I certainly don't want to heap any fuel on the reactionary fire.
Guess I'm goning to have to talk with Lily.
I learned of the alleged shark attack on Satrurday when my son alerted me to it through the coconut telegraph, and that Lilly had first hand information, so I told him to have her call me since we try and keep record here at the lab to furnish the International Shark Files, maybe we could get in touch with the guy and have him come in and fill out a report. So Lily called me yesterday, and I figured we were speaking off record. Dummy me.
This is the first documented shark attack here in lots of years, and I suspect that it was (and she quoted me OK on this one) a case of mistaken identity. I'm certainly no shark expert, but I have read enough concerning their behavior, (and I watch Discovery channel too) so I am guessing that his foot looked like a mullet, Judging from the bite radius, it certainly looks like a shark. However, my own area of expertise lies in Marine ecology, specifically micro-organisms, and mostly these days I am involved in things like seagrass surveys, algae culture and tunicates, a far cry from apex predators....
Hope that I can slide through this media faux-pas without stirring up too big a wave. I realize that the county wants to downplay an event like this (and I hope it is an isolated one), and I certainly don't want to heap any fuel on the reactionary fire.
Guess I'm goning to have to talk with Lily.
Friday, April 08, 2005
You Can't Reason With a Tunicate
Ive always hated the media. Goddam vultures. They belong in the same category as ambulance chasing lawyers, loan sharks and pawn shop owners. They all make their money off of other peoples misfortunes. The job I have requires some interaction with the media, and I have become hostile and uncooperative with the morons who populate media in the past several years. Let me explain why.
In 2003 we were living over in the bedroom community of Bayview, way out in the brushland. I loved it there. We were surrounded by a resaca on one side, and fields bordered by the wildlife refuge on the other. I had a lush vegetable garden, and life seemed idyllic. We had been living in our 36 foot motor home prior to that time, free as gypsys. We loved the "Queen Mary", and it was a grand experiment in mutual cooperation. Sash had a bunk above the drivers area, and the twins occupied the forward living area, D and I had a rear bedroom. We moved around the coast for three years, enjoying the lifestyle. In April of 2003 we decided to lease a house and go "shoreside" for awhile. The property owner said that we could keep the Queen Mary on shorepower alongside, but I opted not too for economic reasons, but we did keep her parked there, and our solar system kept things charged up. Every now and then I would escape to the solace of the 'home remembering all of the good times aboard. It smelled like us.
In July of 2003 we got our first hurricane warning as Tropical Storm Claudette bore down directly on the South Texas coast. Since the property we were leasing was in a low lying area, subject to flooding, we decided to pack up Queen Mary with all of our most valuable items and bug out west till after the storm passed by. So we spent several days cleaning, inspecting and gathering things up in preparation for the impending tropical storm. The winds increased all the while. As the storm approached ever closer, we finished our task and waited, shore power on, but only powering the 12 volt converter which ran QM's lights and fans. Then, the storm decided to make a northbound turn in the Gulf of Mexico. We were still getting pretty good winds, but no rain, being on the west side, so we decided to stay put. I began my job with the lab full time on that Monday, so we decided to leave things in the motorhome till after work, and we'd start unpacking, putting stuff away. We noticed that the power seemed to be surging in the house, the lights and television would go gray than snap back on, air conditioner would spool down, than suddenly up, but didn't think much else about it.
So off to work I went. D and the girls went to the island that day, and we didn't return till after dark, about 8:30 or 9 pm. When we got close to the place, up the tree lined road, I saw lights, lots of lights, and flashing lights too. I got the idea that maybe the grainfield behind our place had caught on fire, but pulling closer up, D suddenly said in a very scared voice; "Where's my motorhome?....Where's my motorhome? I got a sick feeling. Then I saw the fire trucks and ambulances, and the television crew truck broadcasting from the remnants of what were the things of our lives, still smoldering. Queen Mary totally consumed, house partially burned down. I headed over to them in a fog..."get the fuck off of this property!", "there's a special place in hell for people like you" I spewed at them, glaring them off of the property, but they promply set their shit back up on the caliche road, with the wreckage as background. All the while I could hear the kids crying, D sobbing quietly and Sashas look of disbelief. It was a night, a nightmare without an end, and we were rendered essentially homeless zombies in less than a couple of hours.
Over the course of the next several days, I had time to think about things like the lack of class and style that these media vultures showed. They could've easily turned a tragedy into a triumph, at the very least helped make things a bit better. So I decided to let the station manager, a guy named Ray Alexander (KRGTV 5 in Weslaco) know. I sent him an email. About a day later I got a phonecall from the guy, and he was a total asshole. Told me they had every right to be there, in fact it was their civil duty to do so. I reminded him that they had made assumptions regarding the cause of the fire, based on unsubstantiated observation (it turns out the fire was purely accidental, caused by power surging which produced arcing, causing the fire). It didn't make a difference, in fact this guy ended up yelling at me for coming down on his peoples lack of ethos. A truly admirable human, from a purely Herman Goerring perspective.
I ended up sending him one more email, explaining about our work with tunicates, and how closely related to higher organisms they are, organisms like humans. I told him, they have all of the basic systems, even a rudimentary chordate nervous system. Only thing is you can't reason with them, the have no ability to do so. Sort of like him.
In the two years since that fire we've prospered beyond belief. The community in general came out and showed us a spirit of small town compassion that I didn't think existed anymore. Of course the fucking media never picked up on something that wonderful and unique. Wasn't bloody or tragic.
Our family is truly blessed, and I always try hard and forgive the tunicates that have shown up in my life. But that doesn't mean that I have to cooperate with the buggers.
In 2003 we were living over in the bedroom community of Bayview, way out in the brushland. I loved it there. We were surrounded by a resaca on one side, and fields bordered by the wildlife refuge on the other. I had a lush vegetable garden, and life seemed idyllic. We had been living in our 36 foot motor home prior to that time, free as gypsys. We loved the "Queen Mary", and it was a grand experiment in mutual cooperation. Sash had a bunk above the drivers area, and the twins occupied the forward living area, D and I had a rear bedroom. We moved around the coast for three years, enjoying the lifestyle. In April of 2003 we decided to lease a house and go "shoreside" for awhile. The property owner said that we could keep the Queen Mary on shorepower alongside, but I opted not too for economic reasons, but we did keep her parked there, and our solar system kept things charged up. Every now and then I would escape to the solace of the 'home remembering all of the good times aboard. It smelled like us.
In July of 2003 we got our first hurricane warning as Tropical Storm Claudette bore down directly on the South Texas coast. Since the property we were leasing was in a low lying area, subject to flooding, we decided to pack up Queen Mary with all of our most valuable items and bug out west till after the storm passed by. So we spent several days cleaning, inspecting and gathering things up in preparation for the impending tropical storm. The winds increased all the while. As the storm approached ever closer, we finished our task and waited, shore power on, but only powering the 12 volt converter which ran QM's lights and fans. Then, the storm decided to make a northbound turn in the Gulf of Mexico. We were still getting pretty good winds, but no rain, being on the west side, so we decided to stay put. I began my job with the lab full time on that Monday, so we decided to leave things in the motorhome till after work, and we'd start unpacking, putting stuff away. We noticed that the power seemed to be surging in the house, the lights and television would go gray than snap back on, air conditioner would spool down, than suddenly up, but didn't think much else about it.
So off to work I went. D and the girls went to the island that day, and we didn't return till after dark, about 8:30 or 9 pm. When we got close to the place, up the tree lined road, I saw lights, lots of lights, and flashing lights too. I got the idea that maybe the grainfield behind our place had caught on fire, but pulling closer up, D suddenly said in a very scared voice; "Where's my motorhome?....Where's my motorhome? I got a sick feeling. Then I saw the fire trucks and ambulances, and the television crew truck broadcasting from the remnants of what were the things of our lives, still smoldering. Queen Mary totally consumed, house partially burned down. I headed over to them in a fog..."get the fuck off of this property!", "there's a special place in hell for people like you" I spewed at them, glaring them off of the property, but they promply set their shit back up on the caliche road, with the wreckage as background. All the while I could hear the kids crying, D sobbing quietly and Sashas look of disbelief. It was a night, a nightmare without an end, and we were rendered essentially homeless zombies in less than a couple of hours.
Over the course of the next several days, I had time to think about things like the lack of class and style that these media vultures showed. They could've easily turned a tragedy into a triumph, at the very least helped make things a bit better. So I decided to let the station manager, a guy named Ray Alexander (KRGTV 5 in Weslaco) know. I sent him an email. About a day later I got a phonecall from the guy, and he was a total asshole. Told me they had every right to be there, in fact it was their civil duty to do so. I reminded him that they had made assumptions regarding the cause of the fire, based on unsubstantiated observation (it turns out the fire was purely accidental, caused by power surging which produced arcing, causing the fire). It didn't make a difference, in fact this guy ended up yelling at me for coming down on his peoples lack of ethos. A truly admirable human, from a purely Herman Goerring perspective.
I ended up sending him one more email, explaining about our work with tunicates, and how closely related to higher organisms they are, organisms like humans. I told him, they have all of the basic systems, even a rudimentary chordate nervous system. Only thing is you can't reason with them, the have no ability to do so. Sort of like him.
In the two years since that fire we've prospered beyond belief. The community in general came out and showed us a spirit of small town compassion that I didn't think existed anymore. Of course the fucking media never picked up on something that wonderful and unique. Wasn't bloody or tragic.
Our family is truly blessed, and I always try hard and forgive the tunicates that have shown up in my life. But that doesn't mean that I have to cooperate with the buggers.
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