Wondering.....
I've met some great people in this world. I mean like really great. People I can only hope to be half of. My parents were two, but I didn't really appreciate it at the time, and now it can be mostly said it was the great way they raised me and my sisters. Kind of lame/tame, unless it's compared to others who haven't had that sort of luck in their upbringing. My folks were pretty damned good people. Maybe they set the bar.
My sisters, both, would be the next examples. I'm recognizing this more later in life, the same as realizing / discovering the difference between just being a nice guy (me) and being a really great person. I'm an aspiring "great person" an in-intentioned mentor has made me realize now. I really thought I was good because my thoughts were golden. My actions haven't quite kept up with my thoughts.
My sisters, both, have helped people in their communities unselfishly. Both are very religious, one being devout Catholic, just as i was raised, and the other more deeply Christian. From knowing them I would describe the difference as one religion based on tradition, and the other based on that plus a lot of self discovery and study of the bible.
An example of my first non religious thing that is driving this part of this blog. I say "non-religious", but it's only that because no mention of god or church, but it has every part of those teachings.
Sunny day in August in Ohio, 20...whatever. We tie a parasail to a jeep. Someone (Marty Brown) ends up going through a windshield of a truck, just after I leave after having done it all afternoon. I can't find the newspaper article from the Circleville Ohio newspaper, but it started with "Parasailing, which is normally done behind a boat.........."
So Marty broke a bone or got some stitches or something mainly minor. I didn't know him that well at the time, nor did I know the guy who gave him the $300 the next day. I remember clearly thinking that was the coolest thing in the world. It wasn't a ton of money, but that guy didn't know Marty at all. He just saw he got hurt, was part of it kind of, and he decided to give him what little money he had to help him. I remember being so jealous that I wasn't like him.
There's a couple out here like that. "Jamber" or rather Jobe and Amber. I would guess it's more Jobe driving what this is about, but Amber is completely agreeable, but maybe more like me and less ....thoughtful. I don't really know, maybe it was Amber's idea.
I go over there today, and they are talking about the anxiety facing the Marshallese at the small boat marina. The leader, Gary, told them that the new contractor had offered him 65% of his current salary to continue to do what he does. Kwajalein is going thru some fairly radical changes as the contractors who run the island are being ...replaced.
This in a unique place, and no one coming here can instantly appreciate the Marshallese. They are the most awesome of people....it's unexplainable until you spend time working or living with them.
So Jamber, worries about the guys at the Marina.....collects ("collects"...meaning they and two others maybe) $2500 and goes down with $500 envelopes of cash and gives it to the guys working there, because they think its shitty that the new contractor offered them a week before Christmas ....65% of their current pay to keep their job.
I want to be like Jamber.
Sunday, December 24, 2017
Thursday, December 21, 2017
Nearing Christmas on Kwaj.....12-21-17...a visit to Ebeye
My recent move to Chugach (August) from San Juan Construction has been a fairly good tradeoff. I traded more life for money. In other words, making less money is just fine, given that I will get to experience more life.
That original thought was only related to time. The hours Chugach works are from 7:30 am to 4:30 pm. San Juan was working 6:30 to 5:30, and they are a construction company, which if you've ever spent time with construction companies, they are always behind. Always. Since leaving them, things have rang true to that axiom. One foreman from San Juan Construction reported to me that he put in 90 hours one week. They are behind which makes me feel good about leaving them.
I now report to work with 90 guys at 7:30am, 86 of them are Marshallese. The numbers were different at San Juan. They had many more "rebelle" or white guys (read Americans). 70 total with maybe 47 Marshallese. The point is I now spend more time with the Marshallese, specifically two of them ...Tiny and Wagner. However, getting to know the rest of them has been great. The guys I grew to appreciate and genuinely liked to be around at San Juan were all Marshallese. Language barrier or not, they were awesome to work with, to spend time with.
I've gotten to know these guys a little more, maybe because there are less "rebelle" to talk to at Chugach. Humans are lazy. It's easier to talk to someone that speaks your language. It is work to talk to the Marshallese, their accents and English language skills are great, but its just easier to talk to another American.
So my choice has forced me to embrace them even more.
It's Christmas time on Ebeye. Our manager started two weeks ago speaking about the lack of sleep all the (Marshallese) workers would be getting and pleaded with them to be careful, and to remain focused on work. "I know you guys are goin to be up late dancing and getting ready for Christmas" and "we all want you to be safe over here during Christmas and to stay focused on work".
I had no idea. These guys are always looking for extra hours normally to provide for the circle of folks they cover back on Ebeye. Always looking for weekend work.
December seemed to change all that. Everyday of this month , many were absent. I sat down for "roll call" one day and talked to "Billabong" who had his head resting on the crux of his arm on the table. "what time did you go to bed last night ?"..........."3am" he replies...."Jesus" "why do you say his name?" "why were you up so late last night?" "We were dancing". They were practicing their dance for Christmas.
I went over there last year for Christmas, just for a few hours. A group of us went to two churches....it was different than in the States. Crowds sat around while overly loud music played on speakers in the church and tons of Marshallese danced in unison to the music, while more Marshallese and a small percentage of "rebelle" sat watching.
They go into debt to pay for their kids outfits, to buy the material to have them sewn. Many kids belong to different groups at a church or two, so its very expensive for them.
I have a soo much deeper appreciation for Christmas on Ebeye now, and am going to head over much earlier this year.
That original thought was only related to time. The hours Chugach works are from 7:30 am to 4:30 pm. San Juan was working 6:30 to 5:30, and they are a construction company, which if you've ever spent time with construction companies, they are always behind. Always. Since leaving them, things have rang true to that axiom. One foreman from San Juan Construction reported to me that he put in 90 hours one week. They are behind which makes me feel good about leaving them.
I now report to work with 90 guys at 7:30am, 86 of them are Marshallese. The numbers were different at San Juan. They had many more "rebelle" or white guys (read Americans). 70 total with maybe 47 Marshallese. The point is I now spend more time with the Marshallese, specifically two of them ...Tiny and Wagner. However, getting to know the rest of them has been great. The guys I grew to appreciate and genuinely liked to be around at San Juan were all Marshallese. Language barrier or not, they were awesome to work with, to spend time with.
I've gotten to know these guys a little more, maybe because there are less "rebelle" to talk to at Chugach. Humans are lazy. It's easier to talk to someone that speaks your language. It is work to talk to the Marshallese, their accents and English language skills are great, but its just easier to talk to another American.
So my choice has forced me to embrace them even more.
It's Christmas time on Ebeye. Our manager started two weeks ago speaking about the lack of sleep all the (Marshallese) workers would be getting and pleaded with them to be careful, and to remain focused on work. "I know you guys are goin to be up late dancing and getting ready for Christmas" and "we all want you to be safe over here during Christmas and to stay focused on work".
I had no idea. These guys are always looking for extra hours normally to provide for the circle of folks they cover back on Ebeye. Always looking for weekend work.
December seemed to change all that. Everyday of this month , many were absent. I sat down for "roll call" one day and talked to "Billabong" who had his head resting on the crux of his arm on the table. "what time did you go to bed last night ?"..........."3am" he replies...."Jesus" "why do you say his name?" "why were you up so late last night?" "We were dancing". They were practicing their dance for Christmas.
I went over there last year for Christmas, just for a few hours. A group of us went to two churches....it was different than in the States. Crowds sat around while overly loud music played on speakers in the church and tons of Marshallese danced in unison to the music, while more Marshallese and a small percentage of "rebelle" sat watching.
They go into debt to pay for their kids outfits, to buy the material to have them sewn. Many kids belong to different groups at a church or two, so its very expensive for them.
I have a soo much deeper appreciation for Christmas on Ebeye now, and am going to head over much earlier this year.
Thursday, December 14, 2017
Awesome names.....12-13-17
The Chugach "roll call" starts at 7:30 am Tuesday thru Saturday. Nearly 90 guys, 6 or 7 of them Americans sit around an open air sheltered workshop waiting for Claude to call their name. Claude is Marshallese. It starts out with "Billy" who is an American. There are 3 or 4 of them (Billy's), one Phillipino, one American, and two Marshallese. My name gets called after Claude switches to the second sheet, I'm the first on the second sheet. He calls my name, but always answers for me, unless I don't wear my neon orange high vis shirt. If I wear any other shirt, it seems, I have to say "ho".
The roll call doesn't really exemplify the name thing. If one were to sit around and listen to Claude call the names, it doesn't do it justice. You just can't hear him well enough, or maybe its just me...
Jurajar....tall thinner young guy with hair trimmed to about a half inch, except his tail mostly at the top of the back of his head. I hear he's an exceptional basketball player, and very strong
Yoda....yes Yoda. very early twenties, one inch long hair that sort of juts out in the front at the bangs, at bit tall for the Marshallese around 5'8"
Tiny.....older, around 48, doesn't drink or smoke, and has an obsession with fishing, mainly casting a net. His last name is Bobo. Yes Tiny Bobo. He's by far the most impressively humorous one I've worked with. He is cleanly awesomely funny. He calls my knife a cereal box knife because that's how you get one of those knives on Ebeye.....
Wagner. ...last name Ned. He has a great great weezy laugh and has no problem letting it go. The stupidest things get all of them laughing, but he opts in regardless ...stupid...really stupid...funny...it doesn't matter...this guy loves to laugh
Billabong....younger kid....he calls me "fart man" after I had the fart machine going for a while. 2-01-18 correction - his name is Billy Pound, it just sounds like Billabong when Claude calls his name. Great kid, leads all the singing at company parties.
Junior...Ebeye is full of them. 3 of them are in our roll call.
Batlock Batlock....so the last name is shared by many, as many last names are on Ebeye. It just goes against our norms for the most part to have two last names.
Bugbwich Batlock....I wonder if I'm spelling it right. Every time I say it, they say it back to me exactly the way I thought I said it "Boogevitch"...but apparently not. It's an old Marshallese name they tell me. Great forklift operator and funny guy
Swingly....shorter guy around 5'2" and kind of wiry. His family lives on Carlos, one of the outer islands that the US is renting and has some equipment. I'm not sure if that's his first name or last...either way I don't know the one I'm missing.
Kakaro....22 years old maybe. Very intelligent kid, and a great operator of equipment. He works for San Juan....He has a really great personality too.. Last name is Kaitonga. His father John, also a great guy, is from the Gilbert Islands.
Chum Gum....that's James' last name as best as I can spell it. He's older and smart as hell. He's probably more ornery than smart, but it's a tight competition....The first thing he says to me when I walk into his ....area....is "what da f*** you want?" with that accent. While that sounds kind of harsh, its meant totally to be funny....most days I answer him using the same language of trying to work the f bomb in as much as possible for every sentence. This can continue for 5 minutes, while everyone around him dies laughing. It may not be that funny, but Marshallese laugh easier than we do.
Bruce Lee.....this guys sticks around the shop tirelessly cleaning and sweeping. 2-1-18 Correction his name is Anthony, which is boring.
Tibich....45 years old missing many teeth, great guy.
Matson....not sure who he is, but I imagine he is named after the shipping container company. I like to think the Marshallese mothers walk around while trying to think of a name, and just see things sometimes and say "that would be a nice name for a boy, Matson" while looking at a shipping container.
In the U.S. kids would be tirelessly tormented having some of these names. Maybe because I was never around for these names and these guys while in school, they don't do that. They don't pick on each other at all.
I mean, at the softball games, when a Marshallese guy whiffs it with the bat, they all laugh, but the guy who did the whiffing is laughing just as hard. The joke is not on him, its a moment that is just funny, just like it should be.
The roll call doesn't really exemplify the name thing. If one were to sit around and listen to Claude call the names, it doesn't do it justice. You just can't hear him well enough, or maybe its just me...
Jurajar....tall thinner young guy with hair trimmed to about a half inch, except his tail mostly at the top of the back of his head. I hear he's an exceptional basketball player, and very strong
Yoda....yes Yoda. very early twenties, one inch long hair that sort of juts out in the front at the bangs, at bit tall for the Marshallese around 5'8"
Tiny.....older, around 48, doesn't drink or smoke, and has an obsession with fishing, mainly casting a net. His last name is Bobo. Yes Tiny Bobo. He's by far the most impressively humorous one I've worked with. He is cleanly awesomely funny. He calls my knife a cereal box knife because that's how you get one of those knives on Ebeye.....
Wagner. ...last name Ned. He has a great great weezy laugh and has no problem letting it go. The stupidest things get all of them laughing, but he opts in regardless ...stupid...really stupid...funny...it doesn't matter...this guy loves to laugh
Billabong....younger kid....he calls me "fart man" after I had the fart machine going for a while. 2-01-18 correction - his name is Billy Pound, it just sounds like Billabong when Claude calls his name. Great kid, leads all the singing at company parties.
Junior...Ebeye is full of them. 3 of them are in our roll call.
Batlock Batlock....so the last name is shared by many, as many last names are on Ebeye. It just goes against our norms for the most part to have two last names.
Bugbwich Batlock....I wonder if I'm spelling it right. Every time I say it, they say it back to me exactly the way I thought I said it "Boogevitch"...but apparently not. It's an old Marshallese name they tell me. Great forklift operator and funny guy
Swingly....shorter guy around 5'2" and kind of wiry. His family lives on Carlos, one of the outer islands that the US is renting and has some equipment. I'm not sure if that's his first name or last...either way I don't know the one I'm missing.
Kakaro....22 years old maybe. Very intelligent kid, and a great operator of equipment. He works for San Juan....He has a really great personality too.. Last name is Kaitonga. His father John, also a great guy, is from the Gilbert Islands.
Chum Gum....that's James' last name as best as I can spell it. He's older and smart as hell. He's probably more ornery than smart, but it's a tight competition....The first thing he says to me when I walk into his ....area....is "what da f*** you want?" with that accent. While that sounds kind of harsh, its meant totally to be funny....most days I answer him using the same language of trying to work the f bomb in as much as possible for every sentence. This can continue for 5 minutes, while everyone around him dies laughing. It may not be that funny, but Marshallese laugh easier than we do.
Bruce Lee.....this guys sticks around the shop tirelessly cleaning and sweeping. 2-1-18 Correction his name is Anthony, which is boring.
Tibich....45 years old missing many teeth, great guy.
Matson....not sure who he is, but I imagine he is named after the shipping container company. I like to think the Marshallese mothers walk around while trying to think of a name, and just see things sometimes and say "that would be a nice name for a boy, Matson" while looking at a shipping container.
In the U.S. kids would be tirelessly tormented having some of these names. Maybe because I was never around for these names and these guys while in school, they don't do that. They don't pick on each other at all.
I mean, at the softball games, when a Marshallese guy whiffs it with the bat, they all laugh, but the guy who did the whiffing is laughing just as hard. The joke is not on him, its a moment that is just funny, just like it should be.
Tuesday, December 5, 2017
Kilep Ching...12-5-17 Yes I am 12
"Kilep Ching"....It's been mentioned in here before. Marshallese for "big fart". "Kilep" is big, so "ching" must be fart. However, after belching in front of the Marshallese workers, they referred to it as "ching". Maybe it just refers to gas leaving the body.
I try very hard not to talk in the first person. I think its the mark of a good writer, or so I've convinced myself. I cannot finish this post without overusing the letter "I", however I will try.
So the Marshallese workers at San Juan taught me the two words "Kilep Ching" after one of them stunk up a room in building 602 that SJ construction had the contract for. It was all as bad and as funny as you would think. It appears, while our cultures are very different in many ways, we share the same societal norms regarding farting. It's not done in public, unless at a construction site or a confined space where only your workmates can truly (read: not) appreciate it.
So I had Amazon send me a "fart machine". The "reviews" on Amazon mostly gave it a great rating. "Realistic mostly" would sum up the reviews. One has to consider the technological differences between the people living in such a remote place and people in the States. The Marshallese are not stupid at all, but not quite up to date with many things. The fart machine is one of them.
It works off a matchbook size remote control button. The speaker is about the size of a pack of cigarettes and a half. Small enough to fit in the bottom pocket of my cargo work shorts. It puts off about four different fart sounds. Some long, some interrupted, some short....
I gave it to Liz the first day. Liz has the arduous task of trying to make old people look and feel good by cutting their hair at the salon on island. Donna is her compadre, also trying desperately hard to shape dead cells on old peoples scalps so they may feel better about themselves while walking around other old people. Sometimes they shape younger peoples livelier dead cells.
So Liz had Donna going all day long. She had the little speaker hid in a towel or her bag or something that kind of muffled it, but where she was able to keep it close enough to ensure people thought it was her "kilep ching". Apparently, it produces a good enough, realistic and varied version of a fart to have fooled Donna for 8 hours. She actually had one customer offended, which she heard about later from another victim.
It got used during our "after frisbee" campfire time, where we all sit around a light covered with one of the red cones that mark the field for the game. It gives a nice red glow like a campfire, while we relish in our endorphins and alchohol. Liz had the remote, and the speaker in her bag next to her sealed up. The first time she let it go, Aaron's eyes made a quick scan of the group as if asking "umm did anyone hear that?" . She let it lose a few more times and apologized for the Lentil bean dinners she's been eating. It was funny how uncomfortable the guys were for her. She let it go enough that one of the guys let loose and "bbbwwwwwaaaaap". I guess Peter felt comfortable enough. We let the "cat out of the bag" after the second time Peter saw fit to let some methane go. The guys, except for Peter, seemed a bit relieved.
So we see one of the security cars on island pull up a hundred yards away and stop. The guy walks up and says he was wondering about the strange red light and what was going on. He sees all of us and the beers and figured it out. Liz pushed the button. The security guy says...."Well, I guess I'll get going now" and heads off as we all die laughing at how uncomfortable it made thim.
So Tiny and I, are working on a new strange project we got handed. We're tasked with painting the inside of the boom sections from a 185 foot lift. There's six of them, around 45 feet long and around 18 inches square. They are basically 18 inch square tubes of very thick steel painted on the outside, but bare metal on the inside. Raw steel doesn't last long out here so we got the job of painting the inside of these things. We had a lot of fun with the sound travelling thru to the guy on the other side. You could try and talk to the guy on the other end of the boom, outside of the boom and he couldn't hear you unless you were yelling. On the inside however, the square channel carried your voice just fine to the other side 45 feet away. Just talking lightly into the thing saying "DAN is your momma" would get good laughs from the other side.
The fart machine was perfect for this. It was just Tiny and I, Wagner had called in sick. I kept pushing the button on the speaker in my pocket everytime Tiny's head got near the end of the boom. We were pulling a cinder block with sand paper on it with ropes tied to it.....thru the thing back and forth a bit to sand the inside of it.
"That's Horrible" and "what is wrong with you?" and "it's 9:30, break time, time for you to take a shit". I had him going for 4 hours. He is laughing a little this whole time. He explained to me at some point that "we (Marshallese) don't do that in public". Of course he's still smiling as he objects to it, just as we do in 'Murka. I keep saying "sorry I had a lot of beans recently for dinner". Finally, right before lunch he's got his head in the other end of the boom and he's working on the rope on the block and he says "this is the worst day of my life...."
I had to tell him. Best $11 I ever spent
I try very hard not to talk in the first person. I think its the mark of a good writer, or so I've convinced myself. I cannot finish this post without overusing the letter "I", however I will try.
So the Marshallese workers at San Juan taught me the two words "Kilep Ching" after one of them stunk up a room in building 602 that SJ construction had the contract for. It was all as bad and as funny as you would think. It appears, while our cultures are very different in many ways, we share the same societal norms regarding farting. It's not done in public, unless at a construction site or a confined space where only your workmates can truly (read: not) appreciate it.
So I had Amazon send me a "fart machine". The "reviews" on Amazon mostly gave it a great rating. "Realistic mostly" would sum up the reviews. One has to consider the technological differences between the people living in such a remote place and people in the States. The Marshallese are not stupid at all, but not quite up to date with many things. The fart machine is one of them.
It works off a matchbook size remote control button. The speaker is about the size of a pack of cigarettes and a half. Small enough to fit in the bottom pocket of my cargo work shorts. It puts off about four different fart sounds. Some long, some interrupted, some short....
I gave it to Liz the first day. Liz has the arduous task of trying to make old people look and feel good by cutting their hair at the salon on island. Donna is her compadre, also trying desperately hard to shape dead cells on old peoples scalps so they may feel better about themselves while walking around other old people. Sometimes they shape younger peoples livelier dead cells.
So Liz had Donna going all day long. She had the little speaker hid in a towel or her bag or something that kind of muffled it, but where she was able to keep it close enough to ensure people thought it was her "kilep ching". Apparently, it produces a good enough, realistic and varied version of a fart to have fooled Donna for 8 hours. She actually had one customer offended, which she heard about later from another victim.
It got used during our "after frisbee" campfire time, where we all sit around a light covered with one of the red cones that mark the field for the game. It gives a nice red glow like a campfire, while we relish in our endorphins and alchohol. Liz had the remote, and the speaker in her bag next to her sealed up. The first time she let it go, Aaron's eyes made a quick scan of the group as if asking "umm did anyone hear that?" . She let it lose a few more times and apologized for the Lentil bean dinners she's been eating. It was funny how uncomfortable the guys were for her. She let it go enough that one of the guys let loose and "bbbwwwwwaaaaap". I guess Peter felt comfortable enough. We let the "cat out of the bag" after the second time Peter saw fit to let some methane go. The guys, except for Peter, seemed a bit relieved.
So we see one of the security cars on island pull up a hundred yards away and stop. The guy walks up and says he was wondering about the strange red light and what was going on. He sees all of us and the beers and figured it out. Liz pushed the button. The security guy says...."Well, I guess I'll get going now" and heads off as we all die laughing at how uncomfortable it made thim.
So Tiny and I, are working on a new strange project we got handed. We're tasked with painting the inside of the boom sections from a 185 foot lift. There's six of them, around 45 feet long and around 18 inches square. They are basically 18 inch square tubes of very thick steel painted on the outside, but bare metal on the inside. Raw steel doesn't last long out here so we got the job of painting the inside of these things. We had a lot of fun with the sound travelling thru to the guy on the other side. You could try and talk to the guy on the other end of the boom, outside of the boom and he couldn't hear you unless you were yelling. On the inside however, the square channel carried your voice just fine to the other side 45 feet away. Just talking lightly into the thing saying "DAN is your momma" would get good laughs from the other side.
The fart machine was perfect for this. It was just Tiny and I, Wagner had called in sick. I kept pushing the button on the speaker in my pocket everytime Tiny's head got near the end of the boom. We were pulling a cinder block with sand paper on it with ropes tied to it.....thru the thing back and forth a bit to sand the inside of it.
"That's Horrible" and "what is wrong with you?" and "it's 9:30, break time, time for you to take a shit". I had him going for 4 hours. He is laughing a little this whole time. He explained to me at some point that "we (Marshallese) don't do that in public". Of course he's still smiling as he objects to it, just as we do in 'Murka. I keep saying "sorry I had a lot of beans recently for dinner". Finally, right before lunch he's got his head in the other end of the boom and he's working on the rope on the block and he says "this is the worst day of my life...."
I had to tell him. Best $11 I ever spent
Wednesday, November 1, 2017
Nov 1, 2017....the "Reverse Halloween"
14 of us loaded with backpacks full of around 20lbs of candy, loaded the ferry to Ebeye at 4:45pm. Amber wanted to redo last years "reverse Halloween". Last year it might have been 7 of us. We all slightly dressed up in costumes or had some sort of face paint on. She named it "Reverse Halloween" because instead of the kids coming to us, in short, we came to them. It's explained somewhere in this blog from last year that the "command" here on Kwaj.....read ...the powers that be.....only allow so many Marshallese kids/families to come to Kwaj on this day to join the kids here going house to government owned house to collect candy.
Jobe, and Amber decided that was bullshit because it is mainly the more "privileged" kids on Ebeye that get to come to Kwaj and collect a child's dream: tons of candy. The Landowners usually pull rank. So they suggested we load up and go there and fulfill the American "holiday" tradition on the children of Ebeye.
There is a key part of the beauty out here that many Americans working here will never see. It's warm, the skies are gorgeous, the sunsets spectacular, the water is insanely gorgeous, and the under water is the second most beautiful thing out here. The first and most beautiful thing out here is the Marshallese people. I would guess 80% of the "rebelle" here will never realize that. That percentage is probably higher, but I'm trying to be positive.
We definitely, could all take lessons from them. I've seen them being yelled at by some (insert all the negative words) American guy, new to the island or sometimes not so new. They listen with eyes locked on the guy, then the guy walks away and they turn and smile and laugh. It's amazingly awesome. I've worked with them in places that can only be described as ovens in the sun with hordes of flies. They work at their own pace despite my stupidity. As I worked steadily, taking no breaks to set useless "examples", they lay down in the shade and sigh, then say something in Marshallese to the others and crack up laughing. They "waste" more energy laughing then they would have if they just stayed working. They disappear, as I follow my role of (read stupid rebelle) supervisor and continue to pick stuff up or work in any way in the 90 degree sun, 80% humidity, with no wind, surrounded by trees on a sparsely inhabited island, covered with 50 flies. The flies don't bite but they love my sweat, and don't seem to care if its filtered thru the long sleeve shirt or pants or buff that I wear.
After a bit, I walk toward the lagoon, where the wind is coming from, and find 3 or 4 of them lying in the shade on the beach or in trees with a beautiful cooling breeze that eluded me just 50 feet away.
So this is mainly about a ten or so day period where we were sent to an island 13 miles away to do some "cleaning up" of the stuff the Americans had put on the island.
We would board an LCM (landing craft mechanized)(a floating steel bathtub that had a drop down door in the front where we loaded equipment and such), in the morning. Then throw out the "handlines" as we left the harbor, and chill for 50 minutes. It was a great ride. The work was miserable, in fact as miserable as I've had since being here. I volunteered to work the weekend. I didn't have to work, but looking at the situation, where a guy from Ohio would get to head out on a boat with these great fun Marshallese guys to a slightly inhabited island in the middle of the south pacific.........
So the first day of the weekend, Sunday, it was raining when we got on the boat. I'm not sure why we got on the boat with such heavy rain and wind, but it was up to the supervisor of the heavy equipment. James Chum Gum should be Marshallese, he's been in the Marshalls long enough. He's Gilbertese, a string of atolls maybe 400 miles south of Kwaj. He's been around long enough that the Marshallese all respect and love him. He has a white old man ponytail, dark island skin, and the features of these island people. His speech is sort of hard to understand, but he's funny and incredibly smart.
So we do the handline dragging behind the boat in the rain for 50 or so minutes all the way to our destination. After arriving, as the captain lowers the LCM ramp onto the concrete ramp on the island in the rain, I walk down off the stern platform that is covered from the rain to grab the box of "meals" the cafeteria boxed up for us for lunch that was sitting on the deck of the lcm. Venturing out into the heavy rain was something the Marshallese don't normally do. After returning with their lunches in the box, there was no one there. All my guys left the boat. Strange, they hate the rain, but they did have rain coats mostly. So as I sat there under the tarp draped over the stern of the LSM, waiting for them to return, Tenaka, the captain, said something to me. I don't recall what i thought he said, but I nodded in agreement.
The LCM pulls away with my guys onshore, where I knew they wouldn't work, and in the pouring rain we went "bottom fishing". I wrote "we" but it was Tenaka and his first mate throwing out baited hooks about 300 yards offshore of the island in heavy rain and high winds. We drifted fast, they caught maybe six grouper and a few other fish that weren't in my kwaj fish vocabulary.
The powers that be nearly cancelled the ferry from Ebeye that day, something they have done on one day since my arrival on Kwaj 3 years ago, due to the heavy west winds. So our LCM captain Tenaka almost cancelled the day too. The waters were rough, south pass was rough. The captain of the largest boat on Kwaj said he wouldn't want to be on our boat going thru south pass. It wasn't that bad.
I'll try and add some pictures ...
Jobe, and Amber decided that was bullshit because it is mainly the more "privileged" kids on Ebeye that get to come to Kwaj and collect a child's dream: tons of candy. The Landowners usually pull rank. So they suggested we load up and go there and fulfill the American "holiday" tradition on the children of Ebeye.
There is a key part of the beauty out here that many Americans working here will never see. It's warm, the skies are gorgeous, the sunsets spectacular, the water is insanely gorgeous, and the under water is the second most beautiful thing out here. The first and most beautiful thing out here is the Marshallese people. I would guess 80% of the "rebelle" here will never realize that. That percentage is probably higher, but I'm trying to be positive.
We definitely, could all take lessons from them. I've seen them being yelled at by some (insert all the negative words) American guy, new to the island or sometimes not so new. They listen with eyes locked on the guy, then the guy walks away and they turn and smile and laugh. It's amazingly awesome. I've worked with them in places that can only be described as ovens in the sun with hordes of flies. They work at their own pace despite my stupidity. As I worked steadily, taking no breaks to set useless "examples", they lay down in the shade and sigh, then say something in Marshallese to the others and crack up laughing. They "waste" more energy laughing then they would have if they just stayed working. They disappear, as I follow my role of (read stupid rebelle) supervisor and continue to pick stuff up or work in any way in the 90 degree sun, 80% humidity, with no wind, surrounded by trees on a sparsely inhabited island, covered with 50 flies. The flies don't bite but they love my sweat, and don't seem to care if its filtered thru the long sleeve shirt or pants or buff that I wear.
After a bit, I walk toward the lagoon, where the wind is coming from, and find 3 or 4 of them lying in the shade on the beach or in trees with a beautiful cooling breeze that eluded me just 50 feet away.
So this is mainly about a ten or so day period where we were sent to an island 13 miles away to do some "cleaning up" of the stuff the Americans had put on the island.
We would board an LCM (landing craft mechanized)(a floating steel bathtub that had a drop down door in the front where we loaded equipment and such), in the morning. Then throw out the "handlines" as we left the harbor, and chill for 50 minutes. It was a great ride. The work was miserable, in fact as miserable as I've had since being here. I volunteered to work the weekend. I didn't have to work, but looking at the situation, where a guy from Ohio would get to head out on a boat with these great fun Marshallese guys to a slightly inhabited island in the middle of the south pacific.........
So the first day of the weekend, Sunday, it was raining when we got on the boat. I'm not sure why we got on the boat with such heavy rain and wind, but it was up to the supervisor of the heavy equipment. James Chum Gum should be Marshallese, he's been in the Marshalls long enough. He's Gilbertese, a string of atolls maybe 400 miles south of Kwaj. He's been around long enough that the Marshallese all respect and love him. He has a white old man ponytail, dark island skin, and the features of these island people. His speech is sort of hard to understand, but he's funny and incredibly smart.
So we do the handline dragging behind the boat in the rain for 50 or so minutes all the way to our destination. After arriving, as the captain lowers the LCM ramp onto the concrete ramp on the island in the rain, I walk down off the stern platform that is covered from the rain to grab the box of "meals" the cafeteria boxed up for us for lunch that was sitting on the deck of the lcm. Venturing out into the heavy rain was something the Marshallese don't normally do. After returning with their lunches in the box, there was no one there. All my guys left the boat. Strange, they hate the rain, but they did have rain coats mostly. So as I sat there under the tarp draped over the stern of the LSM, waiting for them to return, Tenaka, the captain, said something to me. I don't recall what i thought he said, but I nodded in agreement.
The LCM pulls away with my guys onshore, where I knew they wouldn't work, and in the pouring rain we went "bottom fishing". I wrote "we" but it was Tenaka and his first mate throwing out baited hooks about 300 yards offshore of the island in heavy rain and high winds. We drifted fast, they caught maybe six grouper and a few other fish that weren't in my kwaj fish vocabulary.
The powers that be nearly cancelled the ferry from Ebeye that day, something they have done on one day since my arrival on Kwaj 3 years ago, due to the heavy west winds. So our LCM captain Tenaka almost cancelled the day too. The waters were rough, south pass was rough. The captain of the largest boat on Kwaj said he wouldn't want to be on our boat going thru south pass. It wasn't that bad.
I'll try and add some pictures ...
Tuesday, October 17, 2017
the evil is everywhere....
October 17, 2017...or something close to that..
So my new job will be taking me to one of the hundred islands on this atoll tomorrow. Its one of the islands our government rents from the landowners of the Islands. It has some non island looking US government looking stuff on it. The people who actually own the island are probably not on the island. My guess is that they receive enough money that they live somewhere a little more easy. Its kind of a shame, but this is my U.S. thinking, my "rebelle" thoughts. They could use that payment they get for the use of their island from my government to build something there. A resort or something. That is my thoughts. Thoughts passed down from generations of thinking more of everything is better. The ridiculous thoughts that the harder you work the more you are rewarded. The even more ridiculous thoughts that any of it really matters... The Marshallese thoughts are more about telling stories, hanging out and being lazy and spending time with friends and family. Yea....we don't really have life figured out .....
So my new job will be taking me to one of the hundred islands on this atoll tomorrow. Its one of the islands our government rents from the landowners of the Islands. It has some non island looking US government looking stuff on it. The people who actually own the island are probably not on the island. My guess is that they receive enough money that they live somewhere a little more easy. Its kind of a shame, but this is my U.S. thinking, my "rebelle" thoughts. They could use that payment they get for the use of their island from my government to build something there. A resort or something. That is my thoughts. Thoughts passed down from generations of thinking more of everything is better. The ridiculous thoughts that the harder you work the more you are rewarded. The even more ridiculous thoughts that any of it really matters... The Marshallese thoughts are more about telling stories, hanging out and being lazy and spending time with friends and family. Yea....we don't really have life figured out .....
Friday, September 29, 2017
Maybe it could only happen here...but we all wish it would happen ...Sept 30?,2017
So I'm in the store today, rushing right before frisbee. I came in to buy beer for frisbee...well for after frisbee. A case of miller lite warm because there were no can beers cold, and a six pack of some Hawaiin lager cold gets sat up on the counter. Some lady I have seen around, and waved to while on my bike, because, here, you wave to everyone, is in front of me finishing up her transaction and purchase. I don't remember what she bought, but as she was packing up her wallet, and the cash register lady scanned my first item, and I was padding my pockets down for my wallet.....I realized I didn't have my wallet, and immediately told the checkout lady. "Well, nevermind, I forgot my wallet"
So, as only would happen here, the lady, who I've only seen around, says "Oh do you need some money?" and then gives me $40 after seeing how much it was for the $33 worth of beer....I did hesitate at first, then got a big smile on the inside knowing that normally, even on Kwaj, I would reject her offer. This is the way things should be though. People should be going out of there way to be nice to each other..............AND people should accept the awesomeness of THAT gesture, and go out of there way to pay it back.....
So, as only would happen here, the lady, who I've only seen around, says "Oh do you need some money?" and then gives me $40 after seeing how much it was for the $33 worth of beer....I did hesitate at first, then got a big smile on the inside knowing that normally, even on Kwaj, I would reject her offer. This is the way things should be though. People should be going out of there way to be nice to each other..............AND people should accept the awesomeness of THAT gesture, and go out of there way to pay it back.....
Tuesday, August 22, 2017
PohnPei, Micronesia....
Its a stopping point on the way east from Kwajalein, on the United Airlines flight they call the "Island hopper". United flights 154 or 155 depending on the day and direction of the flight, are on a 737, a plane with an aisle in the middle and 3 seats on each side. On Tuesdays, Thursdays and Saturdays it leaves Honolulu and makes stops on Majuro, Kwajalein, Kosrei, PohnPei, Chuuk, and finally staying on Guam. Going in either direction you can usually "deplane" and go to each islands airport for 30 to 40 minutes or so and have a beer, or some fish jerky on all the islands except Kwajalein. Sometimes they make half the plane leave for a security sweep.
The first time flying east from Kwaj, and going into Pohnpei, the island gave the impression of maybe ten miles in diameter with a barrier reef. This time, as the plane flew by some island with a little tiny runway, I used the runway to estimate the size of the island. Of course this couldn't be Pohnpei, and THAT couldn't be a runway big enough for a plane this size to land on. It looked to me like some private island that someone built a runway on the reef. The plane slowly turned and headed back to that little strip. So it was Pohnpei. Somewhere along the way it was said that Kosrae has the shortest runway possible for a 737, and that the plane often has to "take off" again after touching down too far down the runway to make a safe stop possible. The runway on Pohnpei is not much longer.
Using the runway as a gauge, the island has to be around a hundred miles long. It will be interesting to see how close that guess is, as the island looked about a hundred times the runway in length. Compared to Kwajalein, its a HUGE island, both tall (2800 feet) and in terms of square miles.
Its a newly found world class surfing destination with no real backbone of logistics to support it. This time of year, also, isn't good for big waves either. That all worked on my behalf as I am in no way capable of any "world class" waves, although my level of stupidity would not have stopped me from (read: drowning or getting crushed on a reef) trying.
Its not an easy place to figure out. My lack of world travelling probably hasn't helped. Most speak varying degrees of English. Most people don't walk or ride bikes, cars seem to be the way to go. Its hard to walk around in Kolonia, you get asked for a ride from a "taxi", or maybe just foreigners do. Kolonia, not the capital, but the town, is the only "town" on the island. Most would assume its the "capital" of Pohnpei, but as a cab driver showed me, the "capital" is a set of newly built modern buildings with housing nearby, about 5 miles from the "town" (/Kolonia). The "Capital" reminded me of the whole chick with the bow and arrow movie....asparagus....oh...MockingJay. Anyhow, it was very close to the "College of Micronesia". Maybe a mile away. Strange set up.
The first time flying east from Kwaj, and going into Pohnpei, the island gave the impression of maybe ten miles in diameter with a barrier reef. This time, as the plane flew by some island with a little tiny runway, I used the runway to estimate the size of the island. Of course this couldn't be Pohnpei, and THAT couldn't be a runway big enough for a plane this size to land on. It looked to me like some private island that someone built a runway on the reef. The plane slowly turned and headed back to that little strip. So it was Pohnpei. Somewhere along the way it was said that Kosrae has the shortest runway possible for a 737, and that the plane often has to "take off" again after touching down too far down the runway to make a safe stop possible. The runway on Pohnpei is not much longer.
Using the runway as a gauge, the island has to be around a hundred miles long. It will be interesting to see how close that guess is, as the island looked about a hundred times the runway in length. Compared to Kwajalein, its a HUGE island, both tall (2800 feet) and in terms of square miles.
Its a newly found world class surfing destination with no real backbone of logistics to support it. This time of year, also, isn't good for big waves either. That all worked on my behalf as I am in no way capable of any "world class" waves, although my level of stupidity would not have stopped me from (read: drowning or getting crushed on a reef) trying.
Its not an easy place to figure out. My lack of world travelling probably hasn't helped. Most speak varying degrees of English. Most people don't walk or ride bikes, cars seem to be the way to go. Its hard to walk around in Kolonia, you get asked for a ride from a "taxi", or maybe just foreigners do. Kolonia, not the capital, but the town, is the only "town" on the island. Most would assume its the "capital" of Pohnpei, but as a cab driver showed me, the "capital" is a set of newly built modern buildings with housing nearby, about 5 miles from the "town" (/Kolonia). The "Capital" reminded me of the whole chick with the bow and arrow movie....asparagus....oh...MockingJay. Anyhow, it was very close to the "College of Micronesia". Maybe a mile away. Strange set up.
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A little closer now, it still doesn't look like a quarter of the state of Ohio....but I think it is.
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| The yellow line is a road around the island. The barrier reef is the outermost deal there and you can see the interior lagoons. |
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Now you can barely see the runway at the top of this picture. The runway has to be a mile long, so maybe the island is only 50 miles in diameter.
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Saturday, August 19, 2017
Grateful......8-19-17
I rarely post anything on facebook. I do look at it, way too much and I need to stop. Its full of bad news, or maybe that's just what I look for. Passing by the posts from people who have crossed my path enough in life to become a "facebook friend". Of course many have been in my life since childhood or birth, relatives, cousins, aunts, etc....I look for the bad news from the states and the new "President".
Tonight I posted simply "Never thought I'd be living this life (just being happy and grateful)". Waking up this morning at 5 am on the last day of my employment and deployment with San Juan Construction on Kwajalein, the cleaning began. It's been a very very long time since moving from a place that wasn't mine. Fortunately, along the way, there have been a few rare people who have demonstrated class as tenants, and as just friends borrowing things. Jacob Dehues, a former tenant of mine, left the lease early, and left the place spotless. That was probably twenty years ago, but it left a mark in my head. Then there is Marty Brown, best guy in the world, who borrowed stuff from me occasionally, but always returned it in better shape than when he received it.
It wasn't only those two who motivated the cleaning this morning, they were just the largest influence. Loni, James, or now Myra were left to the task of cleaning the man camp units after guys (mostly) left. Knowing James and Loni was another small part of the motivational cleaning. I wanted to make sure they didn't have to do anything, but let someone move in to my space.
I've never moved out of a place (that wasn't mine) and packed for "vacation" in the same 5 hour period. It was a bit stressful, despite having done what was supposed to be the majority of the work before hand.
POHNPEI. Its in the FSM. The two capitalized words there were two places not in my head, my geographical arena, or my vocabulary until taking the job with San Juan Construction on Kwajalein. Now, sitting in a hotel, on Pohnpei in the Federated States of Micronesia.
How the hell could my life be any better!? Yea, there is always better, and there is always worse....but the best imagined life in my head didn't take things here, or where I've been for the past few years.
KUDOS to you life THANK YOU!!
Tonight I posted simply "Never thought I'd be living this life (just being happy and grateful)". Waking up this morning at 5 am on the last day of my employment and deployment with San Juan Construction on Kwajalein, the cleaning began. It's been a very very long time since moving from a place that wasn't mine. Fortunately, along the way, there have been a few rare people who have demonstrated class as tenants, and as just friends borrowing things. Jacob Dehues, a former tenant of mine, left the lease early, and left the place spotless. That was probably twenty years ago, but it left a mark in my head. Then there is Marty Brown, best guy in the world, who borrowed stuff from me occasionally, but always returned it in better shape than when he received it.
It wasn't only those two who motivated the cleaning this morning, they were just the largest influence. Loni, James, or now Myra were left to the task of cleaning the man camp units after guys (mostly) left. Knowing James and Loni was another small part of the motivational cleaning. I wanted to make sure they didn't have to do anything, but let someone move in to my space.
I've never moved out of a place (that wasn't mine) and packed for "vacation" in the same 5 hour period. It was a bit stressful, despite having done what was supposed to be the majority of the work before hand.
POHNPEI. Its in the FSM. The two capitalized words there were two places not in my head, my geographical arena, or my vocabulary until taking the job with San Juan Construction on Kwajalein. Now, sitting in a hotel, on Pohnpei in the Federated States of Micronesia.
How the hell could my life be any better!? Yea, there is always better, and there is always worse....but the best imagined life in my head didn't take things here, or where I've been for the past few years.
KUDOS to you life THANK YOU!!
Tuesday, August 15, 2017
August 15th - bugs on Kwaj....
So the insects here are not much of a bother to us as humans. Its not like some south American rain forest deal where I seem to have the mistaken impression there are poisonous bugs everywhere.
The flies here are bad, as I've stated before some time back. Having an outdoor food oriented event before sundown is seemingly the highlight of a flies' life on Kwaj. Food gets swarmed with the little speedy, non biting flies. Its a non stop battle to keep them off the food. Wait a few hours, until the sun goes down and there will not be a fly present. Everyone who has spent a month out here knows this.
Cockroaches are here, but not as expectedly visible as one might think given the warmth of the air and all. I had one in the first residence they provided for me on Kwaj, for the Space Fence project. I can't speak for all the other contractors in that mancamp, but apparently San Juan hires a special bread of whiny folks, or the HR department is THAT good, but they paid us an extra 25$ a day if our little tiny small 4 person unit exceeded 2 people. We (James and I) did eventually get a third person....however, before that happened we were fairly certain the giant cockroach we named "Fred" would warrant "room mate pay". He was big, not that we had the kahoonas to catch him to check its genitals to see he was a "he", but he was the largest cockroach either of us had ever seen. I had no idea they could fly. I discovered this one day when Fred was on the bed of the room mate I never had. My kiteboarding gear was on that bed, and I was messing with it when Fred charged me from out of the blue. To someone outside of this scene comparing a being weighing nearly 200 pounds being at war with a "being" (read brown monster from hell) weighing only 4 pounds, seems ridiculous. The big guy should just smash the small guy. Sometimes life isn't so simple, especially when the little brown guy can fly. I nearly knocked myself out on the cheap furniture provided in the room. Ok, so that was a little dig...it could have been really expensive furniture that my head hit. My head hit the corner of the glued sawdust cabinet with a cheap wood colored veneer. There was no blood.
James killed Fred a few days later while sitting on the toilet and smashing him with a flip flop. We had to borrow a power washer to clean up the mess.
So ants.....there area few variety of those out here.......
I have to go to sleep, but let me try and spell out the fire ants here.
Friday night is the night we play ultimate (frisbee). Liz comes out, and immediately gets 5 scores of fire ants on her shoes and legs. I'll be honest, and say that I kind of dismissed it as a one time deal. It wasn't. It happened to her a few more times before I walked or ran across a penchant of them. It's really hard to believe you can walk across a little colony of ants an end up with a hundred of them biting your leg. Ants on cocaine.
Ants on cocaine that bite.
The flies here are bad, as I've stated before some time back. Having an outdoor food oriented event before sundown is seemingly the highlight of a flies' life on Kwaj. Food gets swarmed with the little speedy, non biting flies. Its a non stop battle to keep them off the food. Wait a few hours, until the sun goes down and there will not be a fly present. Everyone who has spent a month out here knows this.
Cockroaches are here, but not as expectedly visible as one might think given the warmth of the air and all. I had one in the first residence they provided for me on Kwaj, for the Space Fence project. I can't speak for all the other contractors in that mancamp, but apparently San Juan hires a special bread of whiny folks, or the HR department is THAT good, but they paid us an extra 25$ a day if our little tiny small 4 person unit exceeded 2 people. We (James and I) did eventually get a third person....however, before that happened we were fairly certain the giant cockroach we named "Fred" would warrant "room mate pay". He was big, not that we had the kahoonas to catch him to check its genitals to see he was a "he", but he was the largest cockroach either of us had ever seen. I had no idea they could fly. I discovered this one day when Fred was on the bed of the room mate I never had. My kiteboarding gear was on that bed, and I was messing with it when Fred charged me from out of the blue. To someone outside of this scene comparing a being weighing nearly 200 pounds being at war with a "being" (read brown monster from hell) weighing only 4 pounds, seems ridiculous. The big guy should just smash the small guy. Sometimes life isn't so simple, especially when the little brown guy can fly. I nearly knocked myself out on the cheap furniture provided in the room. Ok, so that was a little dig...it could have been really expensive furniture that my head hit. My head hit the corner of the glued sawdust cabinet with a cheap wood colored veneer. There was no blood.
James killed Fred a few days later while sitting on the toilet and smashing him with a flip flop. We had to borrow a power washer to clean up the mess.
So ants.....there area few variety of those out here.......
I have to go to sleep, but let me try and spell out the fire ants here.
Friday night is the night we play ultimate (frisbee). Liz comes out, and immediately gets 5 scores of fire ants on her shoes and legs. I'll be honest, and say that I kind of dismissed it as a one time deal. It wasn't. It happened to her a few more times before I walked or ran across a penchant of them. It's really hard to believe you can walk across a little colony of ants an end up with a hundred of them biting your leg. Ants on cocaine.
Ants on cocaine that bite.
Monday, August 14, 2017
so...its been a while....8-12 or so-2017
I've gotten a little busy with life out here. Its an incredibly easy place to get busy and forget a few things. In the Philippines life was a little less complicated by having extra discretional time to live life. While that sounds all pathetic for them, it wasn't. They have hard lives, just like we do, surrounded by lack of money. Many of them aren't television watchers, so they don't get sold on some life they shouldn't be striving to live in the first place like Americans are. In our view, without much thought or reflection on our American lives, they appear as poor. Same as the Marshallese.
They just love each other. Family or second family, or not, they love and share and take care of each other. TV or not, they get together and share, and laugh. Mostly they are just together, and enjoy each other.
I've got so much to learn from them. We all do.
I can now say I've been in many places. I now feel mostly "well traveled". Of course that's relative.
The point to that last sentence is that....well.....civilization .......has a long way to go
They just love each other. Family or second family, or not, they love and share and take care of each other. TV or not, they get together and share, and laugh. Mostly they are just together, and enjoy each other.
I've got so much to learn from them. We all do.
I can now say I've been in many places. I now feel mostly "well traveled". Of course that's relative.
The point to that last sentence is that....well.....civilization .......has a long way to go
Monday, June 5, 2017
Captain Liz....Master Captain.
6-3-17?
Liz has been out here for awhile. She took a break for a year and has now returned to take care of the islands hair. I always had some idea she was originally Australian, because she has dreadlocks, tattoos, and a look that for some reason gave me that impression. There is no accent though, probably because she's from Iowa. She's somewhere between 30 and 40, quiet enough to make you realize she's smart and capable = able to handle herself in situations that many others wouldn't. The first year here she punched some idiot in the face. (please refer back to earlier journal entries) He completely deserved it, and was kicked off the island shortly after. Maybe that "capable" adjective came partly from that.
We went sailing Sunday. I had asked her a week before and the weather looked like it could be good. The forecasts here, especially for the wind, are worthless more than two days out. Saturday afternoon showed 21mph winds from the north east. Saturday evening showed 16mph from the same direction. The second forecast was much more conducive to sailing, especially sailing to the west reef islands.
We left around ten am. The "float plan" that I turned in Saturday evening changed Sunday morning. The east reef looked less appealing due to the wind direction, so we headed to the west reef as I had originally planned in my head. The problem with the west reef island is that the winds blow directly at them, well at an angle. The catamarans love sailing with the wind at their side nearly perpendicular. They travel the quickest when the wind is "beam reach", the sailing term for the wind hitting the boat perpendicular to the length of the boat.
Sailing up the east reef means sailing up the leeward side of the causeway, all nice and protected by the wind. It's best with direct east winds regardless of wind speed. I say "regardless of wind speed" because the wind out here is normally not very strong at its strongest. 30 mph is heavy winds here with a few exceptions. If the winds are too much northeast it leaves you making a bunch of stretchy "Z" patterns trying to go up the causeway.
So instead of stitching up the east reef in what would have been mostly calmer waters, we headed in a straight line to the third island up on the west reef. It gets choppy over there on those islands in the lagoon side because there is 4 to 10 miles of open water that the wind has the chance to mess up. The island I had been to before and thought I was returning to again was the 4th island up the west reef. It had some coral heads but a big sandy beach. The island we got to didn't have a sandy beach on the lagoon side. It had big ugly coral heads and softball size rocks as a beach.
We got there, in 3 foot chop, maybe four. Liz was driving the whole time, and it was a great trip. She continued to do a great job driving when we approached the island and she headed the boat up wind to stop it about 100 ft off shore in terrible waves. I chucked the anchor anyhow. The anchor caught and that part was good, but we were getting rocked in the boat. There was no grabbing our stuff (her awesome sandwiches) and swimming to shore. It was just way too rough with the boat jumping up and down there was no way I could relax on shore knowing something would break on that boat before sending it into the rocks and coral head directly behind it. It was a mutual decision to pull anchor and leave to a calmer spot. The problem is the anchor didn't want to come free. It was only twelve feet of water so that part wasn't a big deal. The anchor was holding still after several attempts of me pulling the boat forward enough to be on top of it to be in the best place to dislodge it. The little boat was bouncing so hard in the bow I was being so careful not to get my fingers tied into the rope too much because the whole pain thing. After realizing the anchor wasn't going to come lose from me just yanking, I sat back a little to gather my thoughts and Liz says we should use the motor to try and get in front of the anchor and pull it from that spot. At that point starting the motor was a great idea, that I was about to come up with before she stole it. We tried a half a dozen times to run over the anchor and pull it out from that angle, but it was fruitless. I kept having thoughts that ..wow she's doing a great job of steering and working the motor from back there. She just knew what to do, or it seemed so from my vantage point, which was not looking back at her. I'd have to say she never really got the boat, or at least the bow, very far in front of the anchor, but it wasn't her fault for trying. The waves were so big the motor was out of the water half the time so it couldn't push forward.
I made the decision, quickly, before Captain Liz did, that I had to go dislodge the anchor. The idea was to snorkel down pull the boat forward enough and put the anchor in a place where it would still hold, but that it could still be pulled from above at the right angle. I put the snorkel mask on, and had thoughts of just diving in without the fins, but Liz, Captain Liz, suggested using them. I was going to use them, I just had thoughts of not.
It's weird how all that violence and stress can be happening above the water, then you dive in and its this beautiful calm place.
Liz had asked me before I went in if the anchor line would hold, because she thought we had gotten closer to shore. Actually closer to the big coral head directly 50 ft behind us. I told her we have not gotten closer. The weak link in my anchoring deal was this rope tied to either side of the bows of the catamaran so it would end up in a "V" shape to tie the anchor line to. They were ...well lets just say it was a really pretty tie job using smaller kite line to tie it on either side. Then there was this "Danik" hook I bought offline that was hooked to the middle of the "V" line.
So, when I went snorkeling, after looking at the situation from the top of the water for a bit, I decided to dive down and do something. As I made it do the bottom by the anchor, I looked back and saw the "Danik" hook sinking with the line behind it. NOT GOOD
I came to the surface to see what was going on and before I got the visual, I heard the little 2.5hp motor revving up. That was a good sound. The visual comes in and Liz is driving the boat mostly parallel to the island but out a bit and south away from me. I waved to the boat as it headed away from me as a little inside joke. The main sail was not connected and flapped in the wind. The jib was still connected though. The boat did wheelies. I was impressed totally. She was driving the boat away from shore with all kinds of chaos going on. Sails flapping, waves smashing, the shore nearly a stones throw away, a motor that was in and out of the water too much and I think she had just learned to steer the boat that day. I was soo worried the motor might quit.
I had to stop being impressed with her and do the stuff I had to do if she came back for me. I dove down and wrestled the anchor free, then got back to the surface. I was pulling in the rest of the anchor rode quickly to keep it out of the prop that I hoped would be heading back my way when I surfaced. I was rooting for her!! It was like, well if the boat gets all smashed up no biggie, it was all my dumb idea.....but Liz was heading back my way however the wind was blowing her into the island. Her head moved around a lot, but she figured it out, she kept cool except for that little moment when the motor turned, and the wind and the rudders acted against her...wait she kept her cool then too. She steered the boat again back south and this time she headed much further out. I swam directly away from shore knowing she'd be coming back. I had 150ft of 3/8" anchor line and ten feet of chain with a five pound anchor when she got back to me.
I swam at the bow and chucked all the rope and anchor up on the front trampoline.
She did really good.
No pictures though....we were busy!
Liz has been out here for awhile. She took a break for a year and has now returned to take care of the islands hair. I always had some idea she was originally Australian, because she has dreadlocks, tattoos, and a look that for some reason gave me that impression. There is no accent though, probably because she's from Iowa. She's somewhere between 30 and 40, quiet enough to make you realize she's smart and capable = able to handle herself in situations that many others wouldn't. The first year here she punched some idiot in the face. (please refer back to earlier journal entries) He completely deserved it, and was kicked off the island shortly after. Maybe that "capable" adjective came partly from that.
We went sailing Sunday. I had asked her a week before and the weather looked like it could be good. The forecasts here, especially for the wind, are worthless more than two days out. Saturday afternoon showed 21mph winds from the north east. Saturday evening showed 16mph from the same direction. The second forecast was much more conducive to sailing, especially sailing to the west reef islands.
We left around ten am. The "float plan" that I turned in Saturday evening changed Sunday morning. The east reef looked less appealing due to the wind direction, so we headed to the west reef as I had originally planned in my head. The problem with the west reef island is that the winds blow directly at them, well at an angle. The catamarans love sailing with the wind at their side nearly perpendicular. They travel the quickest when the wind is "beam reach", the sailing term for the wind hitting the boat perpendicular to the length of the boat.
Sailing up the east reef means sailing up the leeward side of the causeway, all nice and protected by the wind. It's best with direct east winds regardless of wind speed. I say "regardless of wind speed" because the wind out here is normally not very strong at its strongest. 30 mph is heavy winds here with a few exceptions. If the winds are too much northeast it leaves you making a bunch of stretchy "Z" patterns trying to go up the causeway.
So instead of stitching up the east reef in what would have been mostly calmer waters, we headed in a straight line to the third island up on the west reef. It gets choppy over there on those islands in the lagoon side because there is 4 to 10 miles of open water that the wind has the chance to mess up. The island I had been to before and thought I was returning to again was the 4th island up the west reef. It had some coral heads but a big sandy beach. The island we got to didn't have a sandy beach on the lagoon side. It had big ugly coral heads and softball size rocks as a beach.
We got there, in 3 foot chop, maybe four. Liz was driving the whole time, and it was a great trip. She continued to do a great job driving when we approached the island and she headed the boat up wind to stop it about 100 ft off shore in terrible waves. I chucked the anchor anyhow. The anchor caught and that part was good, but we were getting rocked in the boat. There was no grabbing our stuff (her awesome sandwiches) and swimming to shore. It was just way too rough with the boat jumping up and down there was no way I could relax on shore knowing something would break on that boat before sending it into the rocks and coral head directly behind it. It was a mutual decision to pull anchor and leave to a calmer spot. The problem is the anchor didn't want to come free. It was only twelve feet of water so that part wasn't a big deal. The anchor was holding still after several attempts of me pulling the boat forward enough to be on top of it to be in the best place to dislodge it. The little boat was bouncing so hard in the bow I was being so careful not to get my fingers tied into the rope too much because the whole pain thing. After realizing the anchor wasn't going to come lose from me just yanking, I sat back a little to gather my thoughts and Liz says we should use the motor to try and get in front of the anchor and pull it from that spot. At that point starting the motor was a great idea, that I was about to come up with before she stole it. We tried a half a dozen times to run over the anchor and pull it out from that angle, but it was fruitless. I kept having thoughts that ..wow she's doing a great job of steering and working the motor from back there. She just knew what to do, or it seemed so from my vantage point, which was not looking back at her. I'd have to say she never really got the boat, or at least the bow, very far in front of the anchor, but it wasn't her fault for trying. The waves were so big the motor was out of the water half the time so it couldn't push forward.
I made the decision, quickly, before Captain Liz did, that I had to go dislodge the anchor. The idea was to snorkel down pull the boat forward enough and put the anchor in a place where it would still hold, but that it could still be pulled from above at the right angle. I put the snorkel mask on, and had thoughts of just diving in without the fins, but Liz, Captain Liz, suggested using them. I was going to use them, I just had thoughts of not.
It's weird how all that violence and stress can be happening above the water, then you dive in and its this beautiful calm place.
Liz had asked me before I went in if the anchor line would hold, because she thought we had gotten closer to shore. Actually closer to the big coral head directly 50 ft behind us. I told her we have not gotten closer. The weak link in my anchoring deal was this rope tied to either side of the bows of the catamaran so it would end up in a "V" shape to tie the anchor line to. They were ...well lets just say it was a really pretty tie job using smaller kite line to tie it on either side. Then there was this "Danik" hook I bought offline that was hooked to the middle of the "V" line.
So, when I went snorkeling, after looking at the situation from the top of the water for a bit, I decided to dive down and do something. As I made it do the bottom by the anchor, I looked back and saw the "Danik" hook sinking with the line behind it. NOT GOOD
I came to the surface to see what was going on and before I got the visual, I heard the little 2.5hp motor revving up. That was a good sound. The visual comes in and Liz is driving the boat mostly parallel to the island but out a bit and south away from me. I waved to the boat as it headed away from me as a little inside joke. The main sail was not connected and flapped in the wind. The jib was still connected though. The boat did wheelies. I was impressed totally. She was driving the boat away from shore with all kinds of chaos going on. Sails flapping, waves smashing, the shore nearly a stones throw away, a motor that was in and out of the water too much and I think she had just learned to steer the boat that day. I was soo worried the motor might quit.
I had to stop being impressed with her and do the stuff I had to do if she came back for me. I dove down and wrestled the anchor free, then got back to the surface. I was pulling in the rest of the anchor rode quickly to keep it out of the prop that I hoped would be heading back my way when I surfaced. I was rooting for her!! It was like, well if the boat gets all smashed up no biggie, it was all my dumb idea.....but Liz was heading back my way however the wind was blowing her into the island. Her head moved around a lot, but she figured it out, she kept cool except for that little moment when the motor turned, and the wind and the rudders acted against her...wait she kept her cool then too. She steered the boat again back south and this time she headed much further out. I swam directly away from shore knowing she'd be coming back. I had 150ft of 3/8" anchor line and ten feet of chain with a five pound anchor when she got back to me.
I swam at the bow and chucked all the rope and anchor up on the front trampoline.
She did really good.
No pictures though....we were busy!
Tuesday, May 30, 2017
So its been a while.....5-30-17
I surfed. Friday night for 1.5 hours. Saturday night for 2 hours. Sunday morning starting at 6 am for 2 hours. Sunday evening, after sailing in the Hobie for 6 hours, 2.5 hours. Monday morning at 6 am for 2 more hours.
Learning to surf was so far off my radar for so long. I just never thought of being in a place to learn. Never thought of being so fortunate. Not only now am I in this place where I can learn, I'm in good enough shape to learn, and if you've read any of the rest of this journal/blog you would know its the hardest thing I've ever done.
On a side note....when I came back from surfing Saturday evening in the work truck in my shorts around 6:30pm, I parked the work truck at the man camp. When I got out to walk to my miniature apartment two Marshallese guys were leaving someone else's apartment and saw me. They asked me for a ride to the dock/ checkpoint. It was raining and had been since 3pm. The safety guy came out and said he couldn't take them because he had been drinking. Abi and the other guy whose name I can't remember had been drinking too. Abi kept saying stuff like "Ben ...you are batch plant boss, bring me to batch plant, I want to work for you, I respect you" to which I replied "I'm not the batch plant boss, I'm just putting it together for James" Abi denies me that I am the boss several times and tells me to promise him I will bring him out there.
On Kwaj, especially lately, you are not allowed to use work (government property) vehicles for personal use. So I knew taking them up there would probably earn me a ticket and possibly a driving suspension from San Juan, but it was raining, and I love the Marshallese guys.
Halfway back near dusk the rear view mirror showed headlights. It had to be the cops. I was only a half mile from the man camp where I could hide truck amongst the others and duck into my place before they would know who was driving. A half mile at fifteen miles an hour, the islands top speed limit, is an eternity to get thru. I sped up to 40mph. It was risky. I made it. I saw the little square cop suv drive past.....
Next time copper....next time!!
Ok, so that was a long side note..
The thought that originally started this thought was Guiness, the great dane I had the pleasure of being best friends with for 11 years. When she was 4 she would run like a gazelle for an hour, then rest for half a day. When she was12 she would run like a gazelle for two minutes then rest for several days. I seem to be her at 12. The surfing wiped me out. I spent much of the latter half of Memorial Day weekend chilling like Guiness.
Learning to surf was so far off my radar for so long. I just never thought of being in a place to learn. Never thought of being so fortunate. Not only now am I in this place where I can learn, I'm in good enough shape to learn, and if you've read any of the rest of this journal/blog you would know its the hardest thing I've ever done.
On a side note....when I came back from surfing Saturday evening in the work truck in my shorts around 6:30pm, I parked the work truck at the man camp. When I got out to walk to my miniature apartment two Marshallese guys were leaving someone else's apartment and saw me. They asked me for a ride to the dock/ checkpoint. It was raining and had been since 3pm. The safety guy came out and said he couldn't take them because he had been drinking. Abi and the other guy whose name I can't remember had been drinking too. Abi kept saying stuff like "Ben ...you are batch plant boss, bring me to batch plant, I want to work for you, I respect you" to which I replied "I'm not the batch plant boss, I'm just putting it together for James" Abi denies me that I am the boss several times and tells me to promise him I will bring him out there.
On Kwaj, especially lately, you are not allowed to use work (government property) vehicles for personal use. So I knew taking them up there would probably earn me a ticket and possibly a driving suspension from San Juan, but it was raining, and I love the Marshallese guys.
Halfway back near dusk the rear view mirror showed headlights. It had to be the cops. I was only a half mile from the man camp where I could hide truck amongst the others and duck into my place before they would know who was driving. A half mile at fifteen miles an hour, the islands top speed limit, is an eternity to get thru. I sped up to 40mph. It was risky. I made it. I saw the little square cop suv drive past.....
Next time copper....next time!!
Ok, so that was a long side note..
The thought that originally started this thought was Guiness, the great dane I had the pleasure of being best friends with for 11 years. When she was 4 she would run like a gazelle for an hour, then rest for half a day. When she was12 she would run like a gazelle for two minutes then rest for several days. I seem to be her at 12. The surfing wiped me out. I spent much of the latter half of Memorial Day weekend chilling like Guiness.
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| I started wearing the high visibility orange shirts after the 4 or 5 guys got lost Oceanside for 5 hours. |
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Apparently, I'm not worried about the advertising space of my forehead getting sunburnt. This picture was taken by Chris Rice...thank you
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| This is a church on Ebeye. Bilwa told me it took 3 guys seven years to build it. |
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so we can get pretty close to things with my Hobie....I do love sailing by Ebeye with it
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| Patrick and Tom's boat ...the Geneva. |
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| This picture taken by Steve Davis....shows the size of waves I love out here. Too much bigger and its scary. I didn't really catch this one right and ended up riding the white water as opposed to turning right.and heading down the face of the wave |
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Kiteboarding at Bigej......beautiful place...
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| Bigej....around 40 folks live here. great people. |
Wednesday, May 10, 2017
Bilwa has the best laugh
Bilba......and that's not his name.....
Today, he starts telling me about how one of our new safety guys approached one of the guys (not sure if he was "rebelle" (white guy) or Marshallese. It's probably not important to the story any how. The important part is that he was a KRS employee. KRS is the "king" on Kwaj as Bilba put it. They are the military contractor that runs the island, and has run the island for quite a while. KRS = Kwajalein Range Services. They may be based out of Georgia.
So to set this up better, there are 10 or so San Juan guys working downwind of some old Kwaj housing units. At the industrial boat dock on the industrial side of the island. They are basically mobile homes, made in the fifties or sixties. They called them at the time "Silver City" because there were a slew of them together located lagoon side on Kwaj, and they are covered in galvanized/silver tin. They are now kind of dispersed on Kwaj, and a few are halfway up the "causeway" . The "Causeway" is the 5 or so islands north of Ebeye. Shell, North Shell, Loi, and a few other islands I can't remember make up the "Causeway" that extends ten miles north of Ebeye.
The San Juan guys, working "hard" to get things together for the next barge at the more industrial boat ramp that has some acronym name that I can't recall, are doing their thing when the KRS guys start doing something to the "silver city" trailers.
I wasn't personally there for this, and it may be totally a moment where you "had to be there", but Bilba's laugh, as he finished the story has led me to this post. So Bilba (still not his real name, and not sure why I feel I need to protect his real name, except that his laugh was soo loud and so extended it deserves to get him fired...not really...but it was great). A friend told me "that's all the Marshallese have left is to laugh". That part is kind of sad, but its true, and they certainly do laugh.
So Bilso explains to me how the safety guy approaches the KRS workers, chest puffed, and declares "hey you guys can't do that while we are here working, those things are full of asbestos and we are downwind working"...."I'm the safety guy for San Juan, you have to stop doing that". So the guy says "ok, I'll be back". He comes back a bit later with the bigger KRS guy who says "you're absolutely right, these trailers do have asbestos in them and you are down wind, YOU guys have to move................
Today, he starts telling me about how one of our new safety guys approached one of the guys (not sure if he was "rebelle" (white guy) or Marshallese. It's probably not important to the story any how. The important part is that he was a KRS employee. KRS is the "king" on Kwaj as Bilba put it. They are the military contractor that runs the island, and has run the island for quite a while. KRS = Kwajalein Range Services. They may be based out of Georgia.
So to set this up better, there are 10 or so San Juan guys working downwind of some old Kwaj housing units. At the industrial boat dock on the industrial side of the island. They are basically mobile homes, made in the fifties or sixties. They called them at the time "Silver City" because there were a slew of them together located lagoon side on Kwaj, and they are covered in galvanized/silver tin. They are now kind of dispersed on Kwaj, and a few are halfway up the "causeway" . The "Causeway" is the 5 or so islands north of Ebeye. Shell, North Shell, Loi, and a few other islands I can't remember make up the "Causeway" that extends ten miles north of Ebeye.
The San Juan guys, working "hard" to get things together for the next barge at the more industrial boat ramp that has some acronym name that I can't recall, are doing their thing when the KRS guys start doing something to the "silver city" trailers.
I wasn't personally there for this, and it may be totally a moment where you "had to be there", but Bilba's laugh, as he finished the story has led me to this post. So Bilba (still not his real name, and not sure why I feel I need to protect his real name, except that his laugh was soo loud and so extended it deserves to get him fired...not really...but it was great). A friend told me "that's all the Marshallese have left is to laugh". That part is kind of sad, but its true, and they certainly do laugh.
So Bilso explains to me how the safety guy approaches the KRS workers, chest puffed, and declares "hey you guys can't do that while we are here working, those things are full of asbestos and we are downwind working"...."I'm the safety guy for San Juan, you have to stop doing that". So the guy says "ok, I'll be back". He comes back a bit later with the bigger KRS guy who says "you're absolutely right, these trailers do have asbestos in them and you are down wind, YOU guys have to move................
Saturday, May 6, 2017
I've got the most beautiful life!
May 6th, 2017.
Its been too windy to think about going camping. The wind forecasts every weekend for a month or two show the wind slowing down the following weekend. Every week for four weeks its been wrong, but this weekend we are going to ignore it. It nearly takes a week to pull off a camping trip to another island on this Atoll (as opposed to all the other atolls' I've been on :)). First, willing people have to be found, then paperwork has to be taken care of. You go to the RMI office on Kwaj, and the very friendly Marshallese people stamp your trip request as "approved". Its a big round official deal, and they just don't really care much where you are going. Next is passing their approved trip request out to the required powers that be out here. The RMI office is only open during the hours that we work....well ok not quite as extended as our ten hour days. So I have to sneak off a little during lunch, even though I scarf down two plates really quickly. 5 copies are made and you have to distribute them yourself, so that has to happen during my working hours. Its a 3 day deal. The people you invite have no clue, so they randomly renege.
I have the best life!! Pictures to follow
Its been too windy to think about going camping. The wind forecasts every weekend for a month or two show the wind slowing down the following weekend. Every week for four weeks its been wrong, but this weekend we are going to ignore it. It nearly takes a week to pull off a camping trip to another island on this Atoll (as opposed to all the other atolls' I've been on :)). First, willing people have to be found, then paperwork has to be taken care of. You go to the RMI office on Kwaj, and the very friendly Marshallese people stamp your trip request as "approved". Its a big round official deal, and they just don't really care much where you are going. Next is passing their approved trip request out to the required powers that be out here. The RMI office is only open during the hours that we work....well ok not quite as extended as our ten hour days. So I have to sneak off a little during lunch, even though I scarf down two plates really quickly. 5 copies are made and you have to distribute them yourself, so that has to happen during my working hours. Its a 3 day deal. The people you invite have no clue, so they randomly renege.
I have the best life!! Pictures to follow
Wednesday, April 19, 2017
Monday, March 13, 2017
a great memorable weekend...Larry's goodbye and sailing with Ted
3-?-17
There is a saying out here that goes kind of like this - Our evenings are like your weekends, Our weekends are like your vacations, Our vacations are.....I don't remember what I've heard..but Out of this world would be a good ending.
My previous boss, Larry Cotton, is retiring. I'm not certain if he was ready to or not, regardless, he's going to be leaving us, leaving Kwaj and SJC. He never really gave me much respect for what I did, but to be honest, only civil engineers respect a Materials Testing Lab Manager. Larry came out here as an electrician, I heard. He ended up being the commander in chief for San Juan Construction on Kwajalein. At around 5'6" and 170 I'd guess, with balding head and a mischievous face, he quietly got things done out here for the people headquartered in Montrose Colorado. He was good to the people out here from Kwaj. He helped a lot of them get things done, when they had no one to turn to get their boat fixed, or a part borrowed here or there. He understood the give and take of this island. More than anything though, he loved and respected the Marshallese guys that worked for San Juan on the island.
This is beginning to sound like an obituary, maybe I've used too much past tense.
Saturday they had the Marshallese going away party for him. It was at 3pm which is cutting two hours out of the workday, and there was 25 cases of beer, along with a few cases of pop and water available. 25 or so "rebelle" (Marshallese for white guy) were present, probably only 5 knew him for more than 5 months, most only for a month or so. 75 or so Marshallese were there. I'd say a good half of them knew Larry for more than 5 years. He was good to them, I heard rumors that the leadership for SJC thought he was too easy on them.
I can safely say, while in general it is human nature to be lazy, the expats out here that I've seen hired by SJC are far lazier, and much better at avoiding work than 80% of the Marshallese.
The farewell that the Marshallese workers gave that evening for Larry, is unequivocally, the most emotional retirement party I am certain I will ever go to. I've seen it before, just not to this extent. They all sang in harmony and in Marshallese, their goodbye song. While they sang, 75 bellowing voices, they stood in line in front of Larry single file, and gave him gifts, handshakes, and hugs. All the gifts were handmade items, hats, necklaces mainly, and a few other items. I felt weird standing in line at the end and shaking his hand and giving him a custom made "Kwajalein Atoll Frisbee", but I'm glad I did. I was one of two rebelle that did.
David Candle, one of the workers that had been with him for 20 years out here, tried to give a speech. He couldn't really get thru it because he kept tearing up. After he gave up, they made Larry talk, and he couldn't get thru it either, because he was tearing up. What he did say, I hope the new project manager out here heard. He said to the Marshallese mainly "you guys have it a lot harder than the expats do out here, you have to get up earlier to get over here, you work harder......." and I think he kind of lost it after that...
I walked out of UPS after 18 years and giving a two week notice, pretty much like any other day. I just left. No fanfare, no thank you, no nothing. It was about what I expected.
I would much rather leave a place like Larry is leaving, where the people that matter, send you off like you mattered.
I took pictures, and videos, but the sound did not come thru on the videos, I'm going to try and find a video of it that has sound, and post it, because the sound really really matters.
That was Saturday. I spent part of the day trying to put together some sort of sailing on the Hobie trip for early Sunday morning because the winds were looking a bit lighter, and near straight east. I didn't think it would be something any of the girls I have been sailing with could handle, except for one, but she was on call. I really wanted to try and go with Bilwa. Bilwa (spelling may or may not be right, but its phonetically correct) is a 55 year old Marshallese guy, who has been with SJC for a while out here. He has no front teeth on top, and smokes, and loves to drink when there is a party. He knows a lot of the island ways of doing things, and they all tell me he is "number one fisherman". He also has the same great attitude of most the Marshallese, and has the best laugh when he's having fun, its addictive.
I really wanted to sail to an island on the west reef. Crossing the lagoon in winds much higher than 15 can get really sketchy. Ted and I have been out in the lagoon at 24 mph winds, only a mile off the east reef, which is where the wind comes from. So the east reef provides a little protection, but not when the wind is 24 mph and from the north east. Ted and I had both hulls and the trampolines and contents completely under more than a foot of water five times that day. We were both scared the first two times it happened, but the thing resurfaced and on we went. So it can kind of handle it, but well it wasn't really safe. At 24 mph winds from the northeast, we had to head out into the lagoon to get upwind on the east reef, then tack and head towards the reef. Picture a straight line (the reef and Ebeye and all the islands connected by the causeway) that runs slightly northeast to southwest. To make it upwind the pattern looks like a bunch of stretched out "Z's" heading somewhat north. If the wind is straight east at around 80 degrees, its a perfect line to head up the causeway, no tacks or jibes or turning needed. It should also be said that sustained winds above 20 mph usually has the harbor control shutting down the use of the rental boats. They call it "small craft advisory". I usually forget to look. It's not too smart, I'll admit, to go out in small craft advisory, because, as one might imagine ...if they recommend not going out in a rental boat, they dont' wanna come rescue your dumbass on a private boat because they judge the conditions to be to strong. So that's the kind of confidence (read stupidity) I had a few times.
So for the non sailors, picture the wind blowing from your starboard side, your right side. You are cruising along, wind hitting your right side. If you try and turn into the wind to get the boat to change directions its called a tack. So you would turn right, if the wind is coming from your right. A "jibe" is turning away from the wind to switch directions. A tack, is much more preferred than a jibe because the sail comes around slower. If you turn downwind or jibe when the sail switches over it does so fairly violently. The violence can be controlled by making a very slow turn and keeping the sail tight to the center of the boat with both the traveler and the main sheet, but it still slams over much more dramatically than when tacking. ESPECIALLY in high winds.
There is a saying out here that goes kind of like this - Our evenings are like your weekends, Our weekends are like your vacations, Our vacations are.....I don't remember what I've heard..but Out of this world would be a good ending.
My previous boss, Larry Cotton, is retiring. I'm not certain if he was ready to or not, regardless, he's going to be leaving us, leaving Kwaj and SJC. He never really gave me much respect for what I did, but to be honest, only civil engineers respect a Materials Testing Lab Manager. Larry came out here as an electrician, I heard. He ended up being the commander in chief for San Juan Construction on Kwajalein. At around 5'6" and 170 I'd guess, with balding head and a mischievous face, he quietly got things done out here for the people headquartered in Montrose Colorado. He was good to the people out here from Kwaj. He helped a lot of them get things done, when they had no one to turn to get their boat fixed, or a part borrowed here or there. He understood the give and take of this island. More than anything though, he loved and respected the Marshallese guys that worked for San Juan on the island.
This is beginning to sound like an obituary, maybe I've used too much past tense.
Saturday they had the Marshallese going away party for him. It was at 3pm which is cutting two hours out of the workday, and there was 25 cases of beer, along with a few cases of pop and water available. 25 or so "rebelle" (Marshallese for white guy) were present, probably only 5 knew him for more than 5 months, most only for a month or so. 75 or so Marshallese were there. I'd say a good half of them knew Larry for more than 5 years. He was good to them, I heard rumors that the leadership for SJC thought he was too easy on them.
I can safely say, while in general it is human nature to be lazy, the expats out here that I've seen hired by SJC are far lazier, and much better at avoiding work than 80% of the Marshallese.
The farewell that the Marshallese workers gave that evening for Larry, is unequivocally, the most emotional retirement party I am certain I will ever go to. I've seen it before, just not to this extent. They all sang in harmony and in Marshallese, their goodbye song. While they sang, 75 bellowing voices, they stood in line in front of Larry single file, and gave him gifts, handshakes, and hugs. All the gifts were handmade items, hats, necklaces mainly, and a few other items. I felt weird standing in line at the end and shaking his hand and giving him a custom made "Kwajalein Atoll Frisbee", but I'm glad I did. I was one of two rebelle that did.
David Candle, one of the workers that had been with him for 20 years out here, tried to give a speech. He couldn't really get thru it because he kept tearing up. After he gave up, they made Larry talk, and he couldn't get thru it either, because he was tearing up. What he did say, I hope the new project manager out here heard. He said to the Marshallese mainly "you guys have it a lot harder than the expats do out here, you have to get up earlier to get over here, you work harder......." and I think he kind of lost it after that...
I walked out of UPS after 18 years and giving a two week notice, pretty much like any other day. I just left. No fanfare, no thank you, no nothing. It was about what I expected.
I would much rather leave a place like Larry is leaving, where the people that matter, send you off like you mattered.
I took pictures, and videos, but the sound did not come thru on the videos, I'm going to try and find a video of it that has sound, and post it, because the sound really really matters.
That was Saturday. I spent part of the day trying to put together some sort of sailing on the Hobie trip for early Sunday morning because the winds were looking a bit lighter, and near straight east. I didn't think it would be something any of the girls I have been sailing with could handle, except for one, but she was on call. I really wanted to try and go with Bilwa. Bilwa (spelling may or may not be right, but its phonetically correct) is a 55 year old Marshallese guy, who has been with SJC for a while out here. He has no front teeth on top, and smokes, and loves to drink when there is a party. He knows a lot of the island ways of doing things, and they all tell me he is "number one fisherman". He also has the same great attitude of most the Marshallese, and has the best laugh when he's having fun, its addictive.
I really wanted to sail to an island on the west reef. Crossing the lagoon in winds much higher than 15 can get really sketchy. Ted and I have been out in the lagoon at 24 mph winds, only a mile off the east reef, which is where the wind comes from. So the east reef provides a little protection, but not when the wind is 24 mph and from the north east. Ted and I had both hulls and the trampolines and contents completely under more than a foot of water five times that day. We were both scared the first two times it happened, but the thing resurfaced and on we went. So it can kind of handle it, but well it wasn't really safe. At 24 mph winds from the northeast, we had to head out into the lagoon to get upwind on the east reef, then tack and head towards the reef. Picture a straight line (the reef and Ebeye and all the islands connected by the causeway) that runs slightly northeast to southwest. To make it upwind the pattern looks like a bunch of stretched out "Z's" heading somewhat north. If the wind is straight east at around 80 degrees, its a perfect line to head up the causeway, no tacks or jibes or turning needed. It should also be said that sustained winds above 20 mph usually has the harbor control shutting down the use of the rental boats. They call it "small craft advisory". I usually forget to look. It's not too smart, I'll admit, to go out in small craft advisory, because, as one might imagine ...if they recommend not going out in a rental boat, they dont' wanna come rescue your dumbass on a private boat because they judge the conditions to be to strong. So that's the kind of confidence (read stupidity) I had a few times.
So for the non sailors, picture the wind blowing from your starboard side, your right side. You are cruising along, wind hitting your right side. If you try and turn into the wind to get the boat to change directions its called a tack. So you would turn right, if the wind is coming from your right. A "jibe" is turning away from the wind to switch directions. A tack, is much more preferred than a jibe because the sail comes around slower. If you turn downwind or jibe when the sail switches over it does so fairly violently. The violence can be controlled by making a very slow turn and keeping the sail tight to the center of the boat with both the traveler and the main sheet, but it still slams over much more dramatically than when tacking. ESPECIALLY in high winds.
Monday, January 30, 2017
pictures - Palawan and some miscellaneousness
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all the dogs in the Philippines looked very similar to this...not fat, not thin, not unhappy, not sad, just a little pathetic
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| So the lady two miles up the road at the "checkpoint" suggested "Roselands Resort". I stopped in, they were eating fish until I showed up then they gave me this. There's a lot of meat in a fish head. |
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Christmas on Ebeye....awesome
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Another church with a more cough "traditional" Christmas theme.
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| Roselands Resort on Palawan |
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| Roselands Resort again |
Thursday, January 19, 2017
The water out here is ...compelling
Jan. 19, 2017
Alaska's beauty, as far as an earth bound person can see it, is above the water . Gorgeous snow covered peaks only four or five thousand feet above sea level. Its the Rockies meets the ocean. You can go kayaking in the summer and see this beautiful glassy water, surrounded by green grass and pine covered lowlands with low peaks covered with snow higher up. The landscape is unimaginably beautiful. I have it labelled in my mind the most beautiful place I've been. Its a close race with these south pacific islands. The Marshall islands, and I've only been able to see the tiniest portion of it, have a different approach to beauty than Alaska. Most of what I've experienced, is barely above sea level. Many of the islands are a bit barren, most covered in coconut trees, a few a bit less vegetative.
The empty islands here give a cross between those iconic "comic" images that cartoons in the States depict with a few palm trees and one or two people having issues, and the screen saver that half of America has on its computer. That's the competition, the above ground Alaska, beats the above ground Marshall islands. The equalizer comes with the underwater beauty out here.
Alaska's beauty, as far as an earth bound person can see it, is above the water . Gorgeous snow covered peaks only four or five thousand feet above sea level. Its the Rockies meets the ocean. You can go kayaking in the summer and see this beautiful glassy water, surrounded by green grass and pine covered lowlands with low peaks covered with snow higher up. The landscape is unimaginably beautiful. I have it labelled in my mind the most beautiful place I've been. Its a close race with these south pacific islands. The Marshall islands, and I've only been able to see the tiniest portion of it, have a different approach to beauty than Alaska. Most of what I've experienced, is barely above sea level. Many of the islands are a bit barren, most covered in coconut trees, a few a bit less vegetative.
The empty islands here give a cross between those iconic "comic" images that cartoons in the States depict with a few palm trees and one or two people having issues, and the screen saver that half of America has on its computer. That's the competition, the above ground Alaska, beats the above ground Marshall islands. The equalizer comes with the underwater beauty out here.
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