From 84abb974c8fc4cf74e929d8497b29771e7d9c84a Mon Sep 17 00:00:00 2001 From: luxagraf Date: Thu, 10 Oct 2024 15:18:00 -0500 Subject: deleted some old cruft --- bak/oldluxpages/jrnlold/2018/04/cape-san-blas.html | 473 ------------------ bak/oldluxpages/jrnlold/2018/04/cape-san-blas.txt | 42 -- bak/oldluxpages/jrnlold/2018/04/migration.html | 540 --------------------- bak/oldluxpages/jrnlold/2018/04/migration.txt | 50 -- bak/oldluxpages/jrnlold/2018/04/st-george.html | 466 ------------------ bak/oldluxpages/jrnlold/2018/04/st-george.txt | 44 -- .../jrnlold/2018/04/too-much-sunshine.html | 455 ----------------- .../jrnlold/2018/04/too-much-sunshine.txt | 75 --- 8 files changed, 2145 deletions(-) delete mode 100644 bak/oldluxpages/jrnlold/2018/04/cape-san-blas.html delete mode 100644 bak/oldluxpages/jrnlold/2018/04/cape-san-blas.txt delete mode 100644 bak/oldluxpages/jrnlold/2018/04/migration.html delete mode 100644 bak/oldluxpages/jrnlold/2018/04/migration.txt delete mode 100644 bak/oldluxpages/jrnlold/2018/04/st-george.html delete mode 100644 bak/oldluxpages/jrnlold/2018/04/st-george.txt delete mode 100644 bak/oldluxpages/jrnlold/2018/04/too-much-sunshine.html delete mode 100644 bak/oldluxpages/jrnlold/2018/04/too-much-sunshine.txt (limited to 'bak/oldluxpages/jrnlold/2018/04') diff --git a/bak/oldluxpages/jrnlold/2018/04/cape-san-blas.html b/bak/oldluxpages/jrnlold/2018/04/cape-san-blas.html deleted file mode 100644 index e204000..0000000 --- a/bak/oldluxpages/jrnlold/2018/04/cape-san-blas.html +++ /dev/null @@ -1,473 +0,0 @@ - - - - - Cape San Blas - by Scott Gilbertson - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

- -

Home → - -
- - jrnl - - -

- - -

Cape San Blas

- -

St Joseph State Park, Florida, U.S.

- – Map -

- April 7, 2018 - -

It’s been a year on the road now, so to the handful of people who ask how long we’re going to do this, I can say with some authority: more than a year.

- -

St Joseph State Parkl, Cape San Blas, FL photographed by luxagraf

- -

After our time in the forest we headed back down to the coast, picking up the main highway in Port St. Joe before heading out, way out, on to the long peninsula known as Cape San Blas. There’s a state park out at the end of the cape with a nice enough campground and by far the nicest beach on this stretch of the Panhandle. It doesn’t hurt that it’s only a few steps from the campground.

- -

This is just around the corner from what I think is still our favorite spot in the Panhandle, St. George Island, Apalachicola Bay. I don’t know what it is about this stretch of Florida. Maybe it’s me. To me then everything seems just a little bit nicer here, sharper here, clearer here, the sand a little whiter, the sea a little calmer, the sun a little brighter, the bugs a little fewer. Okay that’s a lie. There’s plenty of biting midges here just like the rest of the coast.

Winter seems to have left anyway, finally, a brief rainstorm on our first day giving up a week of perfect 75 and sunny days at the beach.

- - -

St Joseph State Park, Cape San Blas, FL photographed by Corrinne Gilbertson

- - - - - - -

- - - - - -

- - - - - - -

- - - - - -

St Joseph State Park, Cape San Blas, FL photographed by luxagraf

- - - - - - -

- - - - - -

- - -

- -

A year later we’re very close to right back where we started, which feels natural to me.

Everything moves in cycles. Time is a vast swirling whirlpool, spinning us all around and around, each time a little different than the last, but themes emerge, patterns emerge, events repeat, for us, in the world around us. It’s spring again, the birds are migrating back from the Yucatan and points south, just as they did last year. We’ve returned from our own migration. In couple of months the storms will begin to spin across the ocean, gather speed and rush toward the land. Animals, people, natural systems, everything is moving through cycles that have been repeating endlessly for longer than anyone can calculate. Don’t like where things are today? Wait a week, it’ll all change.

There are cycles within cycles. From Ice Ages to Civilizations, everything rises and fall following roughly the same cyclical trajectories. Travelers rise and fall. It’s been a year worth of rises and falls, with any luck we’ll have a many more years, many more seasons, many more migrations, many more rises and yes, many more falls.

- - - -

- - -

- -

- - - - - - -

1 Comment

- - - - - - -

- -

- Patsy wall - April 18, 2018 at 5:07 p.m. -

- -

Beautiful phots of a beautiful family and an amazing adventure! Love, ❤️

- -

- - -

- -

Thoughts?

Please leave a reply:

- -

All comments are moderated, so you won’t see it right away. And please remember Kurt Vonnegut's rule: “god damn it, you’ve got to be kind.” You can use Markdown or HTML to format your comments. The allowed tags are <b>, <i>, <em>, <strong>, <a>. To create a new paragraph hit return twice.

- - -

- -

- - - - -

- - - - - - - diff --git a/bak/oldluxpages/jrnlold/2018/04/cape-san-blas.txt b/bak/oldluxpages/jrnlold/2018/04/cape-san-blas.txt deleted file mode 100644 index 3f27c4e..0000000 --- a/bak/oldluxpages/jrnlold/2018/04/cape-san-blas.txt +++ /dev/null @@ -1,42 +0,0 @@ -Cape San Blas -============= - - by Scott Gilbertson - - Saturday, 07 April 2018 - -It's been a year on the road now, so to the handful of people who ask how long we're going to do this, I can say with some authority: more than a year. - -

- -After our time [in the forest][1] we headed back down to the coast, picking up the main highway in Port St. Joe before heading out, way out, on to the long peninsula known as Cape San Blas. There's a state park out at the end of the cape with a nice enough campground and by far the nicest beach on this stretch of the Panhandle. It doesn't hurt that it's only a few steps from the campground. - -

- -This is just around the corner from what I think is still our favorite spot in the Panhandle, St. George Island, Apalachicola Bay. I don't know what it is about this stretch of Florida. Maybe it's me. To me then everything seems just a little bit nicer here, sharper here, clearer here, the sand a little whiter, the sea a little calmer, the sun a little brighter, the bugs a little fewer. Okay that's a lie. There's plenty of biting midges here just like the rest of the coast. - -Winter seems to have left anyway, finally, a brief rainstorm on our first day giving up a week of perfect 75 and sunny days at the beach. - -

- -

- -A year later we're very close to right back where we started, which feels natural to me. - -Everything moves in cycles. Time is a vast swirling whirlpool, spinning us all around and around, each time a little different than the last, but themes emerge, patterns emerge, events repeat, for us, in the world around us. It's spring again, the birds are migrating back from the Yucatan and points south, just as they did last year. We've returned from our own migration. In couple of months the storms will begin to spin across the ocean, gather speed and rush toward the land. Animals, people, natural systems, everything is moving through cycles that have been repeating endlessly for longer than anyone can calculate. Don't like where things are today? Wait a week, it'll all change. - -There are cycles within cycles. From Ice Ages to Civilizations, everything rises and fall following roughly the same cyclical trajectories. Travelers rise and fall. It's been a year worth of rises and falls, with any luck we'll have a many more years, many more seasons, many more migrations, many more rises and yes, many more falls. - -[1]: /jrnl/2018/03/forest diff --git a/bak/oldluxpages/jrnlold/2018/04/migration.html b/bak/oldluxpages/jrnlold/2018/04/migration.html deleted file mode 100644 index 3e82f4e..0000000 --- a/bak/oldluxpages/jrnlold/2018/04/migration.html +++ /dev/null @@ -1,540 +0,0 @@ - - - - - Migration - by Scott Gilbertson - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

- -

Home → - -
- - jrnl - - -

- - -

Migration

- -

St George Island State Park, Florida, U.S.

- – Map -

- April 16, 2018 - -

If you were a bird, a small one, maybe a Palm Warbler, or a Blue-winged Warbler or perhaps an Indigo Bunting, perhaps, say, this one:

- -

Indigo bunting, St George Island, FL photographed by luxagraf

- -

If you were an Indigo bunting and you were down on the west coast of Costa Rica, spending winter where it was nice and warm, and you decided it was time to head north again, you’d first fly across Costa Rica, then Nicaragua, and then perhaps stopover for a bit in Honduras, and then maybe go for the short hop over the water to Cuba, but, to get to the woodlands of the Great Lakes area, which is where all your bunting friends are spending the summer these days, at some point you’d have to head out over the Gulf of Mexico, starting from either Cuba or Honduras.

Either way, it’s going to be a long flight over water.

You are, just for reference, about five inches long, weigh a couple ounces, have a heart about the size of your pinky nail and are about to fly several hundred miles without stopping, day and night. You’re not very waterproof and sink like a stone, albeit a small one. But over the ocean stopping is not an option, barring a lucky piece of driftwood or a boat. Eventually you’d make it to some Florida barrier island in state roughly similar to what those doomed early polar explorers looked like shortly before they collapsed and died.

But, assuming you make it, you just might find yourself, exhausted and starving, on the shores of St George Island.

- -

Sanderling, St George Island State Park, FL photographed by luxagraf

- -

St George Island is an important stopover for dozens of species of birds coming up from Cuba, the Yucatan and points well south of there, all the way to central South America in some cases. But of course most of St. George is covered in houses and not a very good place to try to find food. If you’re a bird. Or a person for that matter.

Luckily for the birds, the east end of the island is a state park with a few square miles of land set aside to be something like it was before Europeans arrived, what I imagine the birds, somewhat like the Hopi, refer to as “the previous world”.

- -

Laughing Gull, St George Island State Park, FL photographed by luxagraf

Alas we all live in this world, so if you want to see birds, to the state park you go.

And we did. Another short travel day, six miles and we were done, a campsite among the birds. And, as you can see by the list at the bottom of the page, birds there were. And birders there were as well. We weren’t in camp more than hour before a couple different fellow bird watchers stopped by to let us know where the good spots were. I think sometimes birders hesitate to tell us anything because they’re more or less sending small children into the woods, and birds like quiet, whereas small children do not. But at least some of them take the risk, for which I’m thankful.

- - - -

Hummingbird, St George Island State Park, FL photographed by luxagraf

- - - - - -

campground, st george state park, fl photographed by luxagraf

- - - - - - -

St George Island State Park, FL photographed by luxagraf

- - -

- -

I find it a little odd to know that, as I sit comfortably on the beach, sipping ice cold beverages and munching on peanuts and pork skins, somewhere overhead the drama of migration is playing out and tiny little things like Indigo Buntings are completing a journey far more impressive and grand than any I’m likely to undertake¹.

Higher up, above the buntings and warblers there’s even more impressive migrations happening, though many of them are accidental. The sky is full of insects. Spiders in the clouds, insects on the high winds, tons and tons of biomass moving over our heads all the time. All these concurrent lives of which we know almost nothing passing overhead, almost unnoticed save for the moments when you stop and consider them for a moment or two.

Do they consider us from up there, looking down at the strange meaty, fleshy creatures lying in the sand, apparently doing nothing but snacking? Or do they too largely just pass on by, ignoring everything else in their own quest for their version of peanuts and pork skins?

-
Aside from our impressive feats of seafaring, humans are not big travelers, as a species anyway. We got everywhere eventually, a testament to our adaptability, but also something that took a very long time to happen relative to the rest of the animal kingdom. And compared to epic twice yearly migrations of birds, insects, even some mammals, we’re more or less homebodies. ↩
-

Fauna and Flora

- -

Birds
- Bald Eagle
- Black-and-white Warbler
- Blue-winged Warbler
- Boat-tailed Grackle
- Brown Pelican
- Carolina Wren
- Cattle Egret
- Common Ground-Dove
- Downy Woodpecker
- Eastern Towhee
- Gray Catbird
- Great Blue Heron
- Great Crested Flycatcher
- Great Egret
- Hooded Warbler
- Indigo Bunting
- Laughing Gull
- Least Bittern
- Least Tern
- Mourning Dove
- Northern Cardinal
- Northern Mockingbird
- Osprey
- Palm Warbler
- Pine Warbler
- Ring-billed Gull
- Royal Tern
- Sanderling
- Willet
-

- - - -

- - -

- -

- - - - - - -

2 Comments

- - - - - - -

- -

- Rick McQuiston - May 12, 2018 at 3:02 p.m. -

- -

Good perspective, different perspective.

I’ve had the great pleasure of seeing both the indigo and painted buntings here, where you visited in Old School. That was before we got generally wonderful felines and removed the bird feeders.

Haven’t heard in a while. Are you guys back in Athens?

- -

- Scott - May 13, 2018 at 1:12 p.m. -

- -

@rick-

That’s awesome you’ve had a chance to see painted buntings. Someday I’ll run across then.

And yes, we are in Athens now, saw Arva the other day. Hopefully I’ll get the site caught up on our adventures soon.

- -

- - -

- -

Thoughts?

Please leave a reply:

- -

- - -

- -

- - - - -

- - - - - - - diff --git a/bak/oldluxpages/jrnlold/2018/04/migration.txt b/bak/oldluxpages/jrnlold/2018/04/migration.txt deleted file mode 100644 index 660ea55..0000000 --- a/bak/oldluxpages/jrnlold/2018/04/migration.txt +++ /dev/null @@ -1,50 +0,0 @@ -Migration -========= - - by Scott Gilbertson - - Monday, 16 April 2018 - -If you were a bird, a small one, maybe a Palm Warbler, or a Blue-winged Warbler or perhaps an Indigo Bunting, perhaps, say, this one: - -

- -If you were an Indigo bunting and you were down on the west coast of Costa Rica, spending winter where it was nice and warm, and you decided it was time to head north again, you'd first fly across Costa Rica, then Nicaragua, and then perhaps stopover for a bit in Honduras, and then maybe go for the short hop over the water to Cuba, but, to get to the woodlands of the Great Lakes area, which is where all your bunting friends are spending the summer these days, at some point you'd have to head out over the Gulf of Mexico, starting from either Cuba or Honduras. - -Either way, it's going to be a long flight over water. - -You are, just for reference, about five inches long, weigh a couple ounces, have a heart about the size of your pinky nail and are about to fly several hundred miles without stopping, day and night. You're not very waterproof and sink like a stone, albeit a small one. But over the ocean stopping is not an option, barring a lucky piece of driftwood or a boat. Eventually you'd make it to some Florida barrier island in state roughly similar to what those doomed early polar explorers looked like shortly before they collapsed and died. - -But, assuming you make it, you just might find yourself, exhausted and starving, on the shores of St George Island. - -

- -St George Island is an important stopover for dozens of species of birds coming up from Cuba, the Yucatan and points well south of there, all the way to central South America in some cases. But of course most of St. George is covered in houses and not a very good place to try to find food. If you're a bird. Or a person for that matter. - -Luckily for the birds, the east end of the island is a state park with a few square miles of land set aside to be something like it was before Europeans arrived, what I imagine the birds, somewhat like the Hopi, refer to as "the previous world". - -

- -Alas we all live in this world, so if you want to see birds, to the state park you go. - -And we did. Another short travel day, six miles and we were done, a campsite among the birds. And, as you can see by the list at the bottom of the page, birds there were. And birders there were as well. We weren't in camp more than hour before a couple different fellow bird watchers stopped by to let us know where the good spots were. I think sometimes birders hesitate to tell us anything because they're more or less sending small children into the woods, and birds like quiet, whereas small children do not. But at least some of them take the risk, for which I'm thankful. - -

- -

- -I find it a little odd to know that, as I sit comfortably on the beach, sipping ice cold beverages and munching on peanuts and pork skins, somewhere overhead the drama of migration is playing out and tiny little things like Indigo Buntings are completing a journey far more impressive and grand than any I'm likely to undertake[^1]. - -Higher up, above the buntings and warblers there's even more impressive migrations happening, though many of them are accidental. The sky is full of insects. Spiders in the clouds, insects on the high winds, tons and tons of biomass moving over our heads all the time. All these concurrent lives of which we know almost nothing passing overhead, almost unnoticed save for the moments when you stop and consider them for a moment or two. - -Do they consider us from up there, looking down at the strange meaty, fleshy creatures lying in the sand, apparently doing nothing but snacking? Or do they too largely just pass on by, ignoring everything else in their own quest for their version of peanuts and pork skins? - - -[^1]: Aside from our impressive feats of seafaring, humans are not big travelers, as a species anyway. We got everywhere eventually, a testament to our adaptability, but also something that took a very long time to happen relative to the rest of the animal kingdom. And compared to epic twice yearly migrations of birds, insects, even some mammals, we're more or less homebodies. diff --git a/bak/oldluxpages/jrnlold/2018/04/st-george.html b/bak/oldluxpages/jrnlold/2018/04/st-george.html deleted file mode 100644 index a404b69..0000000 --- a/bak/oldluxpages/jrnlold/2018/04/st-george.html +++ /dev/null @@ -1,466 +0,0 @@ - - - - - St George - by Scott Gilbertson - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

- -

Home → - -
- - jrnl - - -

- - -

St George

- -

St. George Island, Florida, U.S.

- – Map -

- April 12, 2018 - -

Someone who witnessed Corrinne and I trying to figure out what day of the week it was asked if we often forgot what day of the week it is. The answer is yes, yes we do. Often. There’s really no need to know in our lives. We avoid driving on Sundays (fewer auto parts stores and mechanics open), but otherwise dates and days of the week are not real pertinent to our lives.

All which is long-winded way of saying we recently ended up with a night between the end of one reservation and the beginning of another with nowhere to go. We spent it here:

- -

- -

It was better than it looks. There was a park across the street that kept the kids busy and there’s a marina just behind where I took this picture, which always provides for entertaining characters. We met two brothers who’d been sailing for I don’t know how long, but they grew up on more or less the same street I did and remembered when it was full of boat builders. There wasn’t a boat builder left by the time I was born.

They had stories though, good stories. Most of which I’m not at liberty to repeat here. But if you ever see a couple sun worn men driving a golf cart around Apalachicola, talk to them if you can. And watch out. The one driving is technically blind.

The next day we headed over to St. George Island where we had rented a beach house to meet up with some of Corrinne’s family. The weather did not cooperate, but we still had fun.

St George Island, FL photographed by luxagraf — The roughest surf I think I’ve ever seen on St. George.

- -

Dark storm clouds, St George Island, FL photographed by luxagraf

- -

We rented the house so there would be room for everyone, but it’s a little odd for us to be anywhere but the bus. Even when we plan it. It was also very strange to spend so much time indoors. I’d never really thought about how much we’re outside until we were inside for a week.

- -

Fort, St George Island, FL photographed by luxagraf

- -

ballet, St George Island, FL photographed by luxagraf

- -

As soon as Corrinne’s family left it got nice and warm and sunny again, though the wind took a couple more days to die down completely. We managed to get in some beach time anyway.

- -

- - - -

- - - - - -

- - - - - - - -

boogie boarding, St George Island, FL photographed by luxagraf

- - - - - -

shaved ice, St George Island, FL photographed by luxagraf

- - - -

- -

Laughing Gull, St George Island, FL photographed by luxagraf

- -

Fishing boat, St George Island, FL photographed by luxagraf — Once the wind died down the Gulf went back to being bathtub calm.

- -

- - - - -

- - -

- -

- - - - - - -

- -

Thoughts?

Please leave a reply:

- -

- - -

- -

- - - - -

- - - - - - - diff --git a/bak/oldluxpages/jrnlold/2018/04/st-george.txt b/bak/oldluxpages/jrnlold/2018/04/st-george.txt deleted file mode 100644 index 6b07b11..0000000 --- a/bak/oldluxpages/jrnlold/2018/04/st-george.txt +++ /dev/null @@ -1,44 +0,0 @@ -St George -========= - - by Scott Gilbertson - - Thursday, 12 April 2018 - -Someone who witnessed Corrinne and I trying to figure out what day of the week it was asked if we often forgot what day of the week it is. The answer is yes, yes we do. Often. There's really no need to know in our lives. We avoid driving on Sundays (fewer auto parts stores and mechanics open), but otherwise dates and days of the week are not real pertinent to our lives. - -All which is long-winded way of saying we recently ended up with a night between the end of one reservation and the beginning of another with nowhere to go. We spent it here: - -

- -It was better than it looks. There was a park across the street that kept the kids busy and there's a marina just behind where I took this picture, which always provides for entertaining characters. We met two brothers who'd been sailing for I don't know how long, but they grew up on more or less the same street I did and remembered when it was full of boat builders. There wasn't a boat builder left by the time I was born. - -They had stories though, good stories. Most of which I'm not at liberty to repeat here. But if you ever see a couple sun worn men driving a golf cart around Apalachicola, talk to them if you can. And watch out. The one driving is technically blind. - -The next day we headed over to St. George Island where we had rented a beach house to meet up with some of Corrinne's family. The weather did not cooperate, but we still had fun. - -

- -We rented the house so there would be room for everyone, but it's a little odd for us to be anywhere but the bus. Even when we plan it. It was also very strange to spend so much time indoors. I'd never really thought about how much we're outside until we were inside for a week. - -

- -As soon as Corrinne's family left it got nice and warm and sunny again, though the wind took a couple more days to die down completely. We managed to get in some beach time anyway. - -

- -

- - -

- -

diff --git a/bak/oldluxpages/jrnlold/2018/04/too-much-sunshine.html b/bak/oldluxpages/jrnlold/2018/04/too-much-sunshine.html deleted file mode 100644 index 319ca18..0000000 --- a/bak/oldluxpages/jrnlold/2018/04/too-much-sunshine.html +++ /dev/null @@ -1,455 +0,0 @@ - - - - - Too Much Sunshine - by Scott Gilbertson - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

- -

Home → - -
- - jrnl - - -

- - -

Too Much Sunshine

- -

St. George Island, Florida, U.S.

- – Map -

- April 23, 2018 - -

After a few days at St. George State Park we headed back down the island to the beach house for another long weekend with some friends who came down from Atlanta. We always love to meet up with friends, but by this time we’d discovered something interesting about ourselves that we sort of already knew, we don’t particularly like staying outside the bus.

I know most people think we’re crazy for living in such a small space, but for us it’s not even something we think about, it’s home. We’re also used to being outside all the time. And I mean that pretty close to literally. If we’re awake, we’re generally outside, it’s the best thing about the way we live. The thing is, it turns out that even we will stay indoors given the opportunity. Even though we know we’re happier outside. I don’t really have a good explanation or solution, other than having a tiny house.

- -

In the end though I know I probably sound like an asshole. Having access to a beach house, as well as an open-ended schedule that allows a more or less unlimited amount of time in this area, and yet deciding that we’ve had enough of the beach isn’t going to endear me to anyone. But there it is.

Sometimes you need a change, no matter how nice it is where you are.

There were also a couple practical considerations that drove us to leave about 10 days before we’d originally planned.

The first was that it’s starting to get hot down here. The second, and far more important reason, is that the bus needs new brakes. I called at least a dozen mechanics between New Orleans and Apalachicola and not one of them was willing or able to do the job.¹ Just outside of Athens, however, there’s a truck mechanic whose been working on m300 series Dodge chassis since they were coming off the factory line. We also have friends and family willing to put us up in Athens, so to Athens we went.

But not before we went to a classic car and boat show over in Apalachicola.

I’m not really much impressed by cars these days, I was in it for the boats. Unfortunately there were only a couple boats, very nice boats, extremely well preserved/made/taken care of, but only three of them.

- -

Classic car and boat show, Apalachicola, FL photographed by luxagraf

- -

There are plenty of people keeping cars alive, but far too few keeping maritime traditions going. Future generations will suffer because we’ve turned our back on the sea as a culture. But so it goes, as Kurt Vonnegut would say.

If you want classic boats and maritime history though, Apalachicola has you covered. The Maritime Museum has quite a few restorations and a few more in progress.

Maritime Museum, Apalachicola, FL photographed by luxagraf — Small wooden boat similar to what would have been used as an oyster boat in these parts, back when the wind was all you had.

- -

The museum’s current big restoration project is The Golden Ball, a 50 foot wooden sloop, designed by L. Francis Hereschoff and built especially for the west coast of Florida, thanks to its shallow draw (2.5 ft) and leeboard stabilizing system (controlled with block and tackle, no winches or motors). There’s a video on YouTube of her arrival in Apalachicola (on the back of a truck) along with the donor talking a little about the boat.

It’s a far larger boat than I would want — should we ever decide we want a boat — but boy would it be awesome to sail a wooden ship around the world. Nothing says fun like a family struggling to careen a worm-eaten 50-ft wood ship on some south pacific atoll. The family that careens together stays together. Probably not actually. When you come down to it, fiberglass was a pretty brilliant invention, probably up there with the ability to calculate longitude reliable on the things-that-revolutionized-seafaring scale.

Anyway our friends had never really spent any time in Apalachicola so we wandered the town for a bit, walked around the Maritime Museum and docks, along with the old canneries and warehouses that line Water Street.

- -

Apalachicola, FL photographed by luxagraf

- -

Since no one else was interested, I wandered off to stick my head in the tent where the Golden Ball was being restored.

- -

The Golden Ball, Apalachicola, FL photographed by luxagraf

- -

There was no one around, it was just a big canvas shed that I guessed was covering a boat. I poked my head in, snapped a few pictures and was getting ready to head off to catch up with everyone else when a voice said, “you can go in”. I turned around and an older gentleman was crossing the street coming toward me. He gestured to the giant tent and said go in.

I said I already had. It’s a beautiful ship I told him.

He said, “thanks, but it still needs a lot of work.”

“True,” I said, “but that’s the fun part.” I told him a little about restoring the bus, far simpler than his project, but the only restoration I’ve ever done. We talked about the beauty of fiberglass over wood and metal when it comes to surviving long-term exposure to the elements.

He looked at me for a bit and then squinted a little and said, “you want to help restore this thing?”

“Absolutely,” I said. Learning wooden ship building is one of those things I’ve always wanted to do, along with welding, sewing, sailing, tracking, hunting, and several dozen other skills I’ve yet to pick up. “The problem is I don’t live around here. Worse than that I don’t really live anywhere.”

“Well, that’s easy to fix.” He smiled, “you need to move here.”

I laughed. “True, that would be the simple solution.” And it’s not often someone more or less offers to teach you wooden ship restoration. It was tempting. The most tempting settle-down-in-one-place offer I’ve had. “Someday we might,” I told him, “we do love Apalachicola, but right now we’re having too much fun on the road. Good luck with her though.”

“Thank you. And if you ever change your mind, come on down, I’m sure I’ll still be here.” He smiled.

We shook hands and he ducked inside the tent.

I set off down the street, walking fast to catch up with the family.

-
There actually is one I’m pretty sure would have been capable, and had worked on the bus last year, but he was booked up three weeks out. ↩
-

- - - - -

- - -

- -

- - - - - - -

- -

Thoughts?

Please leave a reply:

- -

- - -

- -

- - - - -

- - - - - - - diff --git a/bak/oldluxpages/jrnlold/2018/04/too-much-sunshine.txt b/bak/oldluxpages/jrnlold/2018/04/too-much-sunshine.txt deleted file mode 100644 index d195e92..0000000 --- a/bak/oldluxpages/jrnlold/2018/04/too-much-sunshine.txt +++ /dev/null @@ -1,75 +0,0 @@ -Too Much Sunshine -================= - - by Scott Gilbertson - - Monday, 23 April 2018 - -After a few days at St. George State Park we headed back down the island to the beach house for another long weekend with some friends who came down from Atlanta. We always love to meet up with friends, but by this time we'd discovered something interesting about ourselves that we sort of already knew, we don't particularly like staying outside the bus. - -I know most people think we're crazy for living in such a small space, but for us it's not even something we think about, it's home. We're also used to being outside all the time. And I mean that pretty close to literally. If we're awake, we're generally outside, it's the best thing about the way we live. The thing is, it turns out that even we will stay indoors given the opportunity. Even though we know we're happier outside. I don't really have a good explanation or solution, other than having a tiny house. - -

- -In the end though I know I probably sound like an asshole. Having access to a beach house, as well as an open-ended schedule that allows a more or less unlimited amount of time in this area, and yet deciding that we've had enough of the beach isn't going to endear me to anyone. But there it is. - -Sometimes you need a change, no matter how nice it is where you are. - -There were also a couple practical considerations that drove us to leave about 10 days before we'd originally planned. - -The first was that it's starting to get hot down here. The second, and far more important reason, is that the bus needs new brakes. I called at least a dozen mechanics between New Orleans and Apalachicola and not one of them was willing or able to do the job.[^1] Just outside of Athens, however, there's a truck mechanic whose been working on m300 series Dodge chassis since they were coming off the factory line. We also have friends and family willing to put us up in Athens, so to Athens we went. - -But not before we went to a classic car and boat show over in Apalachicola. - -I'm not really much impressed by cars these days, I was in it for the boats. Unfortunately there were only a couple boats, very nice boats, extremely well preserved/made/taken care of, but only three of them. - -

- - -There are plenty of people keeping cars alive, but far too few keeping maritime traditions going. Future generations will suffer because we've turned our back on the sea as a culture. But so it goes, as Kurt Vonnegut would say. - -If you want classic boats and maritime history though, Apalachicola has you covered. The Maritime Museum has quite a few restorations and a few more in progress. - -

- -The museum's current big restoration project is The Golden Ball, a 50 foot wooden sloop, designed by L. Francis Hereschoff and built especially for the west coast of Florida, thanks to its shallow draw (2.5 ft) and [leeboard](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Leeboard) stabilizing system (controlled with block and tackle, no winches or motors). There's a [video on YouTube](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=KbXpUJQhrJM) of her arrival in Apalachicola (on the back of a truck) along with the donor talking a little about the boat. - -It's a far larger boat than I would want -- should we ever decide we want a boat -- but boy would it be awesome to sail a wooden ship around the world. Nothing says fun like a family struggling to careen a worm-eaten 50-ft wood ship on some south pacific atoll. The family that careens together stays together. Probably not actually. When you come down to it, fiberglass was a pretty brilliant invention, probably up there with the ability to calculate longitude reliable on the things-that-revolutionized-seafaring scale. - -Anyway our friends had never really spent any time in Apalachicola so we wandered the town for a bit, walked around the Maritime Museum and docks, along with the old canneries and warehouses that line Water Street. - -

- -Since no one else was interested, I wandered off to stick my head in the tent where the Golden Ball was being restored. - -

- -There was no one around, it was just a big canvas shed that I guessed was covering a boat. I poked my head in, snapped a few pictures and was getting ready to head off to catch up with everyone else when a voice said, "you can go in". I turned around and an older gentleman was crossing the street coming toward me. He gestured to the giant tent and said go in. - -I said I already had. It's a beautiful ship I told him. - -He said, "thanks, but it still needs a lot of work." - -"True," I said, "but that's the fun part." I told him a little about restoring the bus, far simpler than his project, but the only restoration I've ever done. We talked about the beauty of fiberglass over wood and metal when it comes to surviving long-term exposure to the elements. - -He looked at me for a bit and then squinted a little and said, "you want to help restore this thing?" - -"Absolutely," I said. Learning wooden ship building is one of those things I've always wanted to do, along with welding, sewing, sailing, tracking, hunting, and several dozen other skills I've yet to pick up. "The problem is I don't live around here. Worse than that I don't really live anywhere." - -"Well, that's easy to fix." He smiled, "you need to move here." - -I laughed. "True, that would be the simple solution." And it's not often someone more or less offers to teach you wooden ship restoration. It was tempting. The most tempting settle-down-in-one-place offer I've had. "Someday we might," I told him, "we do love Apalachicola, but right now we're having too much fun on the road. Good luck with her though." - -"Thank you. And if you ever change your mind, come on down, I'm sure I'll still be here." He smiled. - -We shook hands and he ducked inside the tent. - -I set off down the street, walking fast to catch up with the family. - - - -[^1]: There actually is one I'm pretty sure would have been capable, and had worked on the bus last year, but he was booked up three weeks out. -- cgit v1.2.3-70-g09d2